FSE

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A small pontoon boat, flagged down by a warning blank cannon blast, moors against an asteroid as the Archie pulls up and promptly traps the craft against the rock with a hull reinforced by an absurd amount of metal. A long-brimmed hat with a blue feather leans over the side of the railing of the Archie as Yskra leans forward, the tall raptor looking down at the diminutive craft to see the three rough faces of what appear to be canine asteroid prospectors with a fourth that looks like a scruffy rabbit. Dead giveaway. Yskra saw him through his spyglass stuffing the long, floppy things into his shirt to try and change his appearance.

“How's it going, Krieg?" Yskra smirks at the smugglers, the lot of them letting out annoyed sighs and sitting down heavily, dropping the innocent act.

Normally Krieg and his men would draw guns, two apiece, but with at least half of the Wicked gold also looking from the railing and holding over two dozen self-reloading rifles among them, that's not an option. Well... not a sane one, anyways.

“Ach, could be a bit better, could be worse. Same old racketeer," Krieg grins right back, his white coat, dappled with black and orange, smudged to a near solid grey color with stone dust. “But seems you like to come find my burrow every time we're in the same sector. Are you really so desperate for another bottle of highbrow wine?"

“Ohh, tempting! But no. A little birdy told me you've acquired another exotic feathered treat. Annnd I do collect nice birds, if I do say so myself."

“Last I checked the only one you really care about was – ah, what was their name? Robes, Robbit?"

“Robyn, you flapjack-eared jackoff!" The miffed avian shouts from the crow's nest.

“Yes, that one," Krieg says pleasantly.

“Something something, it's a work in progress," Yskra twirls his hands and then waves dismissively. “We need the girl and I'm willing to pay so this doesn't have to get ugly."

“You heard right we had her. But I tell you what, let me know who this little birdy was, and I'll swap details on where she's gone, yeah?"

“Like in a padded box underneath the deck you're standing on?"

Krieg takes a deep, regretful sigh, pinching the bridge of his muzzle before saying, “It was that shipwright Millit that sold us out, wasn't it?"

“I didn't even have to pay him; he was so drunk he just kept talking!" Yskra guffaws, the crew erupting into a rancor as he reaches into the crowd to pull out by the shoulder a small, red feathered bird chortling along with them, a rum bottle in his talons. “All birds can have a nice quality, like info and being a bartering chip, so I thought I'd temporarily collect him. Whattadya say to a trade?"

“… Only if you buy a bottle of highbrow while you're at it," Krieg pouts. “We're going to be making one helluva loss for this."

“Tell ya what, I'll even tow you lot to the next port to save on fuel."

“Truly, a magnanimous vulture. Alright, no sense in keeping her in a box when you'll treat her like royalty," Krieg harrumphs, backing up to thump the floor and knock a board loose with one of his large paws. “Go easy on this one if you don't want to spook her."

His crew then step in to pull back the rest and lift a long, rectangular box up out of a void space in the hull they promptly pop open to reveal a frightened, exotic looking young lady with gorgeous orange plumage. Its coloration turns to a citrus yellow along her knees, hips, and elbows, and lime along the dense feather of her forearms. Dressed, literally, in a thin dress to avoid chafing in the tight confines of the trunk, nothing is left to the imagination.

One sight is all Yskra needs to think about making a few royal progeny before a knowing elbow from Valkyrie snaps him out of it.

“Oi, lads, get the gangplank and get her aboard! Desty, get this man his coin, and Zaryl, see to it they get a secure mooring to the ship!" Yskra orders, striding down the impromptu bridge as soon as it is laid to offer her a gentlemanly hand, lifting her free of the box.

“I suppose you're another mercenary hired by my father, aren't you?" She sighs.

“Not directly, but yes, we do intend to deliver you to him safe and sound. And certainly in more comfort than these men could have," Yskra replies smoothly.

“Except that they were taking me elsewhere…" She pouts.

“Hah, so about that, miss…" Krieg chuckles sheepishly. “No smuggler would go through this much fuel and risk for a coin purse of doubloons."

As he says this, he hands her back said coin purse along with a comically oversized and overpacked suitcase pulled out from under several tarps and pickaxes that were hiding it. Yskra hefts it for only a few moments before handing it promptly off to Helm, the battleship of a man slinging it over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes with an eye roll. Pausing inspecting the smuggler's travesty of an engine, he brings the suitcase up the gangplank, giving the new bird no doubts about where her custody is being transferred.

Being that she is soft and poses not much of a threat, there is no apparent need to be rough with her like other prisoners are usually treated.

“Well. Dang… I suppose introductions are in order. I am… you may call me Mango," She says uncomfortably, holding her hand out to shake.

Yskra's grasp is gentle as he shakes curtly, saying, “Captain Yskra of the Archie and her crew, the Wicked Gold. We'll take good care of you."

“No amount of luxury makes up for what I'm being sent back to…" She bemoans, allowing him to lead her across the gangplank.

“And what might that be?"

“Arranged marriage to a star baron."

“…Surely you have the ability to say no?" Yskra offers, reserving judgement.

“It's not that easy… Not to be rude but I've been dreadfully cooped up and bounced around in there for a few days now. I don't suppose there's somewhere I could sleep for now?"

“Of course! Valkyrie, the blue dragon there, has her own quarters. I should think you would be most comfortable sharing her bunk for now."

“No one barges in there. You'll have privacy too. C'mon, l'll walk you down and give you a tour of the ship later," Valkyrie nods, offering her an arm.

Locking elbows with her, Mango lets herself be led off as Valkyrie begins to point out little details about the ship on the way down below. Yskra helps Zaryl oversee the mooring of the smuggler's ship and then returns to his quarters to write a message to be sent off on a glider. The Wicked Gold cannot very well dock at any official port that may have a telegram or perhaps a signal dish on account of being arrested almost immediately, but one of the crew can send it while disguised. The recipient in question is one Amadeo Medici, a crime lord leader of a small but very competent syndicate with valuable services.

The bounty specifies to return his kidnapped daughter in return for a damn fine payout, but each ruffled feather on her body means a heavy ding to the pay by the time she's brought back. Normally, Yskra would at least half follow the rules set on collection to avoid skullduggery, but in this case everyone with something to gain within a lightyear will be also looking for this girl. As such, Yskra is sending only his ship identification and a loose feather he quietly picked off Mango to be described in great detail by the signal operator, and a man like Amadeo should pick up very quickly what the captain is putting down and send someone to track him.

That way, even if the message is intercepted, it's cryptic enough most people not in the loop won't understand what they're looking at. And for those that are, they might not catch on all the same. It also just so conveniently means Yskra's treasure hunt can continue with this detour out of the way. Shortly after the glider takes off with the message, Mango finds out just how much brightly colored feathers are a dead giveaway when trying to sneak onto the ship dinghy. Not only was she noticed by the crew almost immediately, but everyone also knew who she was.

“Oh. Well. Drat," She sighs as Valkyrie lifts her out from behind, setting her back on deck where the crew are waiting with manacles.

“Hey, no, bad!" Yskra tuts, shooing the restrains off after the commotion on deck grabs his attention. “Any mark on this bright sunrise of a beauty is five hundred marks off our payout! Translation: that means less drink for you lot!"

Quickly, the manacles are put back and Zaryl comes around, dispersing the crew. “The agency is appreciated; the sudden lack of productivity is not! Back to your stations, ya layabouts! We got decks that need waxing and a hull that needs cleaning if any of you need to be given something to do!"

The tide splits and in moments there is nothing but the normal deck crew and the more hoodlum members of the crew dashing around in the rigging above, helping tighten and maneuver the large sails to catch solar wind.

“You have a… surprisingly disciplined crew, for a pirate," Mango remarks aloud, chuckling bashfully like she's been caught with her hand in a cookie jar.

“And you're quite lively for someone who needed sleep," Valkyrie smirks. “I left for five minutes to grab a drink and you're already out the door."

“Can you blame me for trying?" She smiles innocently.

“Honey… you couldn't even figure out the on switch. That engine is clearly a rustbucket and is loud as a screeching kobold to top it off. You heard it while some of the crew was using it to help maneuver that casket of a sloop. What was the plan?"

“Ideally," Mango emphasizes with some sense of humor, well aware it was a bad idea from the start, “It was to ride off into the sunset with no one the wiser."

Yskra snickers, but the frowns of his two subordinates sober him up immediately.

“Captain, we should have a talk with her in your cabin. Can you manage the crew for a bit, Zaryl?" Valkyrie asks him.

“I outrank you. These roles should be reversed. But fine," Zaryl huffs, knowing full well it takes her a few teasing comments to make him melt and acquiesce either way.

Taking the colorful avian by the hand, Yskra leads the lady to his cabin where he sits her down on one of the two comfortable couches flanking a tiny coffee table within.

“Now. Where do I even start? My sweet summer child, you packed silk clothes to run away," Valkyrie sighs as she seats herself.

“It's perfectly durable and useful!" Mango protests, a little offended by her overly gentle tone.

“And also, a dead giveaway you or your parents have a lot of money. Here's something that bears asking: what did you first do to blend in when you were 'kidnapped'?"

“I'll have you know I left of my own volition. I was not kidnapped in the slightest," Mango replies defensively, also dodging admitting that trying to disguise herself in regular crowds did not go so well.

“I had that part figured out…" Valkyrie says, struggling to find a nice way to say what's on her mind.

“Wait a moment. You packed silks? And then hired a fishing vessel? My dear, you have a lot to learn!" Yskra exlcaims, at first almost gob smacked, and then almost immediately annoyed with himself he didn't come to this conclusion on his own. “It is incredible you made it to an actual smuggler at some point, I must say!"

“I… Erm. Read plenty of novels. And know how to speak slang from them," She offers nervously. “I was sort of hoping to figure it out as I go."

“I was glad to find you before anyone else for the payout. Now that's doubly so for your wellbeing!" Yskra exclaims. “Why in the vast infinity of the stars would you run off without a clue what you're doing?"

The bluntness of his question ruffles her feathers a bit, and Mango lets out a defeated sigh.

“I was to marry Lenei Gunderson to help merge my father's cartel with his massive estate, 'expand the family business' as he put it," She explains. “I wasn't allowed to say no."

“Ah, that's the star baron you mentioned earlier. I would go as far as to say he is the star baron. What's so bad about that? You get everything you could ever want dropped in your lap!" Valkyrie says.

“First of all, he's elderly and has enough hair missing you wouldn't realize he's of terrier descent," Mango starts, “And I already had everything I could have needed. I didn't want more. In fact, I wanted less, thank you very much! I'm more well read on the natural world than many of the popular encyclopedia writers, a better composer than every musician that ever walked through our manor doors, and I also happen to be damn good at horseback croquet. But no one cares about that. No one even cares about my real name! I'm Amadeo Medici's daughter and that's it. Let's be honest, did you even know he had a daughter before picking up this bounty?"

“For the record, you had me on your side at missing hair. And admittedly, no," Valkyrie nods.

“Guilty as well," Yskra agrees.

“That is why I ran off, to hell with the dangers and all! Because I wanted to be more than Gunderson's sixth wife," She shouts, annoyed and repulsed by the very idea, “And if it got me killed, so be it!"

“That is very fair. However," Valkyrie replies, hands pressed together under her nose like a parent struggling to explain something, “That reputation is never going to go away. And your father has a lot of enemies. I can think of the Rumgunners in specific. Let's just say they're looking to return the favor after he offed their previous bigshot Bronx a while back."

“I'm not knowledgeable on what my father does with his business, admittedly. He specifically kept me away from that, pushed me towards books up until recently when this marriage came out of nowhere," Mango clarifies.

“Hmm. Maybe he's betting on Lenei dropping dead and leaving you one wealthy widow…" Yskra speculates.

“I am not so shallow!" Mango gasps. “And I am both shocked and appalled by the insinuation. No, I am not lifting my skirt for some old mangebag. I am better than that!"

“I see where you're coming from. I do. But do you at least realize it's not safe for you to be without your father's protection?" Valkyrie asks. “That's all we're really trying to achieve here."

“I am… seeing your point, yes," She groans, putting her face in her hands. “Now that I think about it, I'm very lucky to be alive. I'm not even sure why Krieg gave me back my money. He could have kept it, and no one would have stopped him."

“I believe I know the answer to that," Yskra declares, lifting her chin up with a finger to look into his eyes. “You are a genuine, precious gem. Rich but with none of pomp, honest with no shadow of doubt, and burning with a passion to be more than what you are. It would take a truly cruel heart to take advantage of you."

Just as the beautiful bird begins to blush, a terrible force of great evil and fluff makes its most audacious move yet.

“Bleeeck!" Desty fake gags, popping up from under the blankets on Yskra's bed, “I didn't realize you dug into those old romance novels the crew passes around for shits and giggles, captain!"

“No, no I have not," Yskra says to her with a side look that she full well know means retribution later, having wondered when the bump in his bedcovers was going to chime in. “I like to think I am refined enough to not require the scribbles of a hopeless romantic."

“I dunno…" She snickers. “But yes, I agree with Yskra. Here's an idea, cap'! I'd say our tracks are pretty well covered, right?"

“As much as one such as I can keep a low profile," Yskra smirks. “What are you thinking?"

“Why don't we just… slow down a bit. Give her a good taste of this life before getting shipped off elsewhere?"

“Ohh, now there's an idea!" Yskra remarks, Mango's eyes glowing hopefully. “I'll make you a deal, Mango. No more attempted flight – and please, for your own safety, no fights – and we'll take the slow way back to your father. That should give you time to acclimate. Then either you learn you hate the life of thrills and adventure, or your next escape attempt will go much more smoothly with some world knowledge."

“Only if you show me how to use a sword," Mango snickers cheekily.

“Maybe not just yet," Valkyrie sighs.

“I also shudder at the thought," Yskra chuckles.

“Hey, it'll be a learning experience either way," Desty adds.

“That's certainly true… Alright. Have it your way, but I get to hear some of your music in return," Yskra haggles.

“Deal!" Mango blurts, holding out her hand.

With a firm shake, the agreement is set. Naturally, the first thing she wanted to do was sword fighting, and they spend a few minutes talking her down to give the crew a few days to adapt to their new tenant before pulling out any sharp weapons. Upon finding out there's another person on board from high life, Desty all but adopts her on the spot and Lyn joins them in showing her all the interesting things that come with living below being filthy rich, such as friendly insults to good friends, wearing clothes of any cut or stich they like, and the harsh sting and chemical funk of cheap rum.

Before long, Mango trades her silks for one of Desty's colorful shirts and deck pants, finding them much more practical and comfortable, though the latter may be because she lost the girdle.

“I'm no longer worried I'll trip and fall if my dress snags on a nail! This is great!" Mango giggles.

“Well, we can't be letting that deck kiss your beak, now can we?" Desty smirks, Lyn quietly ruminating the things she'd like to do to the bird with her tongue before the pangolin is broken out of her thoughts by the feathered dragon saying, “Right, Lyn?"

“Oh, right!" She nods. “That, or a snag could have caused her full dress to come off. That – that would be terrible!"

“You're so right! I forgot to pack panties!" Mango gasps.

“Oh, damn," Lyn grunts affirmatively, covering her nose as it begins to bleed a little. “Yeah. Really, uh, dodged a bullet there. Mhm."

“And this view! I could look at it for hours!" Mango says, turning to look over the railing as they come back up to top deck.

“I know what you mean. That's just what I did!" Desty seconds, turning to speak softly in pangolin's ear as the avian is distracted. “Lyn, get it together, you disaster lesbian."

“Like you're not thinking the same thing!" Lyn ripostes, Desty's sheepish shrug in response more or less confirming her accusation.

“What was that?" Mango asks.

“Oh, I just said I'm going to go clean myself up. I sneezed and got a bloody nose. Y'know how it goes, space dust allergy and all that," Lyn waves her off, quickly going back below deck. “Don't wait up for me!"

The crew filters around the ship on their duties, surprised to see their valuable prisoner now walking freely around the ship. Desty explains the situation and they find it odd, but their skepticism as to the wisdom of this arrangement is quickly dashed after each person takes a shine to her with a few short exchanges of conversation. This leads to her eating dinner with the crew instead of privately in Yskra's quarters as he intended to give her more space, but seeing as that's clearly not necessary, he allows her to mingle freely with them, confident they all know full well the reckoning that awaits any undue mischief directed at Mango.

This turns to drinking and song as time goes on, and before long her voice can be heard flowing throughout the ship as she struggles between laughing and dancing to learn the raucous drinking songs they all like. By morning, or as morning is dictated on schedule with the ship hurtling past suns on the regular, she wakes up on her temporary hammock in Valkyrie's quarters, hangover and all.

“Oh me, oh my, I should have known better to put that mug down," She sighs and then winces, rubbing her temples as Valkyrie helps her out of the hammock to avoid falling.

“Yeaaah, rum for the first time is a learning experience," Valkyrie says sympathetically. “Come on, water and some food will fix you right up!"

“Ahh, still preferrable to dear old dad's lectures," Mango chuckles wearily.

“Plenty of time before you have to deal with that, don't worry."

“I didn't ask, by the way; how long will it take to get back?"

“It really depends on your father, actually," Valkyrie says, opening the door for her and locking it after they both leave her cabin. “That bounty of yours is so big that cap' didn't feel comfortable rushing you back home; that'd be the most predictable thing to do. Instead, he sent a message, and Amadeo will have to find us as we continue our treasure hunt. The highest priority on the bounty, after all, was to keep you safe. Nothing safer than seeming like we're not on the hunt at all!"

“The next port isn't far off, if Desty was right about the maps she showed me when I was in her room. Do we have to worry about those smugglers tipping anyone off? Krieg did say he made a loss…"

“No, Krieg and Yskra go back a ways. There's a reason he was absent from the festivities yesterday."

“Oh? Why's that?"

“When they meet, the two have a tradition of playing cards, you could say."

“Krieg would risk gambling after losing his bounty?"

“Nah mate, we don't gamble money on this ship."

“What do you gamble?" Mango asks as they enter the mess hall.

“Are you familiar with the concept of strip poker?"

“Not at all! What is it?"

“We'll have to ask Yskra to play. I'm sure he'd be up for a game or two."

And for a game or two Yskra would, having just spotted a derelict pirate shipyard, once belonging to a massive gang of pirates known as the Yore. In an incident unrepeated since then, an entire army battalion mutinied after discovering asteroid belts full of rare alloys. One fruitful business venture later with freelance and rogue mining companies, the profits source dried up with the ore, and a breakdown of sheer greed among the leadership led to a total collapse of command and splintering of the Yore. They turned on their captain, but he had prepared for that eventuality and hid the main bulk of the profits, as well as any gains and valuables taken from civilian ships that floated into the area.

Whether or not he lived to brag about it is unknown. But the complete and total lack of any valuables being found or locations known of where they might be when some of the remaining members of Yore were collected up, interrogated, and promptly imprisoned lend credence to the legend. As Yskra has found out through tracking down and thoroughly plowing the captain's daughter, a portion of it was hidden in small caches scattered throughout all the previously mined out asteroids. It would take a large and organized crew with a penchant for finding valuables in unlikely places to get a hold of it, and it just so happens that is what the Wicked Gold excels at.

With Zaryl dispatched do brief the crew below deck, Yskra gathers the crew on top.

“Alright, all you cooped up, wayward souls! The time I have promised has arrived! A great big ol' scavenger hunt, just for you and your gathered teams! Usual raid rules apply, but instead gathered items apply to teams and not ye yourselves," Yskra calls out from the helm with enthusiasm. “The things you find here may very well be better than our usual haul, but I've been inside at least half of you by now, and I think the same story stands for a lot of the friendships onboard this ship! No skullduggery or cheating one another, ya hear? Oh, and remember this is an old mine and be careful; don't go shaking any old dynamite boxes! Now, off with ya lot!"

Upon Yskra's word, the pirates begin leaping off the ship, flying on wing, and taking off on gliders. Some opt to run straight for the nearby asteroids, but most spread out in an even dispersion among the field. Teams are identified by colored cloths wrapped around their shoulders or arms, making it appear as if the captain loosed a gaudy net on the old mine. Afterwards, the bottom deck empties out rapidly from the gunports or the crew running back up to top deck and leaping off into low gravity, leaving a few of the less exuberant crewmates behind to guard the ship with Yskra as Zaryl and Valkyrie patrol on a glider and the dinghy to make sure the order is kept and catch anyone who falls out of the local gravity field.

There are the usual shenanigans of the crew launching off one another, swears and lighthearted threats exchanged, but no punches or weapons are thrown. Chuckling to himself at how animated they all are to go off and get themselves covered in rocky dust, Yskra spots Mango and Desty coming up the stairs from the main deck to the helm.

“And here I thought you'd be with Lyn, Desty," Yskra remarks warmly. “Though, I suppose I shouldn't complain about a clerk with discretion."

“Well, actually, I was hoping she could take me looking for treasure?" Mango beams.

“I would prefer you to stay on the ship," Yskra begins and feels his heart strings plucked as her feathers droop, “Buuut what the hell, why not. I'll just have to come with you."

“Captain Yskra getting his hands dirty?" Desty coos.

“A captain's first priority is the wellbeing of his ship, thank you!" Yskra fires back. “But I think the skeleton crew can manage without me."

“Fuck yeah!" Mango chirps with a happy little jump, surprising both Desty and Yskra.

“Language, young lady!" Desty says with mock indignation.

“Get bent, ya fake bird!" Mango giggles back at her.

“Goodness, we're a bad influence," Yskra says with a smirk, retrieving his personal glider, larger and faster than most of what the crew has. “Come on you two. You're small enough this will carry all of us."

The next few hours go in a blur, traversing the asteroid field with the two tightly holding on to Yskra as they fly between the large, drilled out rocks. On the smaller asteroids, he waits with the glider while they explore every nook and shadow, and carries the lantern as they explore the tunnels dug through the larger ones. Lyn spots Desty with Yskra and her group joins them, slowly gaining a large crowd that scours every bit of rock they come across.

Yskra was almost concerned at first, but soon they find pouches of gold coins, rings here and there, gems tucked away, and all the risk that came with taking a chance on their dubious lead became worth it. There comes a part where those who have gathered around Mango and dote on her purposefully ignore the gleam coming from a small hollow along the floor, and she stops everyone to get on her hands and knees and pluck out a sack that has partially rotted through and shows off all manner of gems, ornate coins, and jewelry as she holds it up, lifting out a solid gold bar embossed with the Yore's insignia.

“Wooh! Helluva find Mango!" Desty cheers, the rest of the crew present joining in and congratulating the overwhelmed bird as it's handed off to Yskra and he digs through it with a claw, pulling out a slim platinum chain with a starry pendant on it.

“I think this sort of a score deserves a reward," He declares, passing the bag off to Desty as he hangs it around Mango's neck. “A fine treasure…"

“The necklace, right cap'?" Desty elbows him knowingly.

“Sure, Desty," Yskra half grins. “Sure."

By the time they get back to the ship, their conjoined group has collected a fine glut of gold and silver, dressed like a theatre group or exotic harem in all the jewels and bolts of silks found before it's all collected up for counting later. The other groups return, some even more successful, others with nothing at all, all finding the crew actively celebrating and joining in. There are drinks shared and dancing on top deck with Mango singing in the crow's nest while the rigging crew play their instruments, becoming an audible beacon to the rest of the wayward teams to follow back. This continues for some time until the energy of the crew is spent, and leisure becomes more desirable than celebration.

In the belly of the ship, Mango shares drinks with Yskra, Desty, Lyn, Valkyrie, Zaryl, and a few others in the messhall, lively chatter going on all around them and the things they all want to get with the massive score.

“A toast to this life!" Yskra raises his mug as they get their second round delivered by the cook's assistant, a chorus of “Aye!" joining him as they collectively drink.

Sipping rather than quaffing, Mango puts her tankard down faster than the others and asks, “So, Captain Yskra, is now a good time to ask if we can play strip poker?"

The entire table and a few others within earshot nearly choke on their rum, a few beating on their chests and coughing into their sleeves to clear out the stiff drink from their airways.

“Well," Yskra says, having forced down his swallow before letting out a chuckle, “On the Archie we just call that poker. Do you know the rules?"

“I assume you get your cards stripped one at a time or something like that? I've never played before," Mango replies, admitting, “I'm not sure I've ever played a card game, come to think of it."

“Not quite. It has the rules of regular poker, which we can teach you easily enough, therein which you make bets on winning or losing. When you lose a bet, your strip off a piece of clothing."

“Ohhhh. Yeah, sure, let's do it! But, uh, can we move to your quarters for it?"

“I'm down!" Lyn joins in.

“Of course you are," Desty chuckles. “Alright, same here."

The rest of the table nods in agreement and Yskra acquiesces to moving to his cabin and Zaryl produces a deck from his jacket. Cards are dealt and the rules are explained to Mango with Desty and Yskra handholding her through the first game, and after the first round both Valkyrie and Zaryl have to lose their jackets. By the second game Yskra and Desty lose their shirts. It seems to be going well for Mango until she makes a mistake by betting shirt and pants against Valkyrie, the blue dragon displaying the royal flush in her hand with the grin.

With a heavy blush, Mango first removes her pants, revealing blue silk panties, and then her shirt. The shape of her small, round breasts was revealed by the dress on her first day, but it is still a pleasing sight to the rest of the players to see them in their full glory on her slim body.

The next two rounds go bad for Yskra in the bets against him, and even with his advantage of a coat and boots, he has to strip bare when every player pulls out a better hand than his four of a kind and then flush. At this point he's convinced Zaryl is getting revenge on him with the deck being rigged somehow, but instead of getting annoyed, he puts his feet up on the table and enjoys all the glances or outright ogling of his half-erect cock, only his hat left on. The only person present that hasn't felt it and enjoyed the experience is Mango, after all.

It just so happens her next bet goes south and off come the panties, and she's surprisingly bold for a rich girl to leave it all on display instead of crossing her legs and arms. Desty grins at Lyn, the pangolin sitting with firmly crossed legs and biting her lip.

“W-well, guess I'm out, right?" Mango asks nervously.

“Not exactly…" Yskra suggests. “I'd say you have one more thing to bet."

“What's that?"

“Lost your next bet and you've got to ride one of us here. Sound fair?"

“Well, my nana didn't raise a quitter!" She smiles.

“Splendid!"

With her snatch on the line, Mango plays a lot more conservatively, and most of the group is either hanging brain or tits until she finally busts.

“Sooo," Lyn croons with her tongue twining between her fingers. “Who's it gonna be?"

“I mean. The captain has been stiff for a while now. What kind of guest would I be not to help with that?" Mango shrugs.

“Heh. Fair," The pangolin smirks. “Eye candy for me either way."

“And fun for me, my dear," Yskra grins wolfishly, offering her a hand.

Taking it, he lifts her onto his lap where his erect cock presses lightly against her netherlips, softly grinding against the labia and clitoris with his length as she sits against him. She coos, feeling the heat of his body intimately against hers, and the feeling is not unwelcome.

“Take your time," Yskra asserts. “I'm happy to have you just like this all night, if need be."

Cards are dealt again, and Mango loses her bet, along with the rest of the table, to Valkyrie. The dragon still has her pants and shoes on, seemingly comfortable with baring her breasts first and thoroughly enjoying Zaryl being hot and bothered next to her by that alone. Having lost again, the sherbert avian decides she made her lap and she's going to bounce in it, raising up to slowly push the raptor's tip past her entrance.

His large size intimidated her, but the tapered length makes it much easier than she thought to take him. Past inch six, though, his girth begins to stretch her, and she shudders around him, the rum doing nothing but making his member warmer while she feels his throbbing pulse through it. It would be much too inconvenient for her to play halfway impaled, and she decides to go all the way, gasping when his tip hits her cervix.

The captain emits a rolling, rumbling croon as she hilts on him, letting her take it at her pace. His normal operating procedure would be to overwhelm his lover in a sexual fervor, but something about her feels too soft for that. Instead, he takes it slowly, feeling all over his partner with the gentle caress of his fingertips, tracing the outer ring of her nipples, rubbing her beak, and gently nuzzling and kissing her neck. Talented and experienced in love making, he is receptive and goes no further than she is comfortable with. Though, he does take the intimate moment to pluck a free feather from his crest and tuck it into her hair as he does with every first conquest.

Not a fan of soaking, evidently, she grips and massages his dick quite nicely by the next round, and come the second he helps her along with light thrusts. Zaryl eventually has to lose his underclothes, leaving him nude, at which point Valkyrie, now with just her pants, pulls out a strap on she hid in her jacket and thuds it on the table like a weapon.

“I bet your ass on your next loss, big guy," She offers, making his azure scales blush a deep purple."

“Y-yeah, that's fine," He murmurs, recognizing the dildo on it as perfectly in the shape and size of Yskra's cock, lovingly crafted down to the position of the veins. “How long did you spend on making that?"

“I must have poured a mold in the cute tight butt of yours after he was done with it one night."

“H-ha ha," He stammers, trying to fake laugh before bashfully averting his eyes from Valkyrie's taunting gaze.

Lyn ends up having to make a similar agreement with Desty by the next round and is then in between her legs on the one after that. Given Lyn is neither subtle nor short in tongue length, the feathered dragon opts to just fold most of her cards in the following games, left shuddering and leaning on the table. Lyn's loss is partially due to Mango and Yskra combining forces since they can't not look at each other's cards with his dick painting her most intimate places in precum, next targeting Zaryl and successfully busting him.

“Alright, bend over. I've taunted you for so many months I gotta prove there's bite with my bark," Valkyrie grins, caressing his chin before dropping her pants and tightening on the strap.

The lube helps but one could argue it's almost unnecessary as she fits the entire dildo into his ass with one thrust.

“Just as I thought, it fits you like a glove!" She purrs, forcing his head down onto the table where she can mount him fully and clamp her teeth over his neck in a gentle but forceful hold, forcing a yelp out of him that turns to a low whine. “You're really fuckin' cute when you whimper, you know that?"

Even though the sound is desirable to her, she grabs a cushion with her tail to stuff his face into so the conversation can continue over the moans of him enjoying a faux session with Yskra.

Letting out a small twitter as she pushes back into Yskra's gentle thrusting, Mango's attention is drawn to the struggling dragon and she smiles widely with a playful squint as she says, “How's it going, Desty? You seem to be having a rougher time than me!"

“Ah, well – ah, fuck! Hnngh! Lyn, you were wa – waiting to… nnnf! … to do that until after I started t-talking," Desty stammers as her pleasure points are suddenly and overwhelmingly exploited by Lyn devouring her snatch, the clerk shuddering and digging her nails into the table as she's wracked by an overwhelming orgasm. “How did you get so good at this!?"

Feeling Yskra's breath hot against her neck, Mango picks up her speed of riding, and she's almost surprised as she feels warmth, a lot of it, pooling deep inside her. Following the direction of many a romance novel she's read, she pushes herself down on his hilt and clenches hard, drawing a heavy, amorous grunt from him as all the slow sex finally culminates in his pent-up balls emptying inside her with a vengeance. Grinding her hips against his in a slow, circular motion, she rides out her own high on him, shuddering as he caresses her belly slowly swelling with a bump.

“W-wow. You enjoyed that, Captain," Mango notes.

“Mmm… perhaps," He smirks.

“Glad you enjoyed it!", She chirps with a beaming smile.

“Absolutely. Let me know the next time you want to play cards, my dear."

Eventually, clean up must follow, though that doesn't take long with everyone pitching in, and soon everyone is off to bed with the helmsman guiding the ship back towards more well-traveled space. With this kind of a haul, Yskra is taking it straight to an archeology guild he's worked with in the past he knows won't cheat him. The caveat is he can't sell them stolen goods, and he is nothing if not good to his word. At least, he is in this case.

“Captain!" Zaryl calls, banging on his cabin door a day later, “Amadeo found us! He'll be docking with us shortly!"

Putting a pin in the conversation he was having with Desty and Valkyrie on how much to haggle the loot for, he steps out onto the deck as ropes are lashed together to stabilize a finely crafted warsloop to his ungainly Archie. Off it first steps a few guards clad head to toe in some rather veritable armor, and then a nightjar with finely preened, gleaming feathers in a black tunic and dark pants. He wears not shoes along his talons but leather wraps, leaving the sharp hook along each toe free to grip against the wood with each step. Mango comes up from below deck with the crew flanking her as she greets her father with a nod.

“Ah, my dear!" He gasps with relief, opening his arms, but she only hives him a polite nod.

“Hi father…"

“Ah, I expected you to be scared after all you've doubtlessly been through, but I suppose I should have known you took after your mother after all."

“I've had a wonderful time, for the record."

“I'm so glad to hear that," He says with a genuine smile. “But it's time to come home. You're not made for this life."

“Amadeo, good to see you got my message!" Yskra waves as he moves quickly from his cabin to the deck, the mobster happily shaking hands with him.

“I am glad too! I was not too amused having to track you down, but to see my daughter in one piece and spared the stress of skulking through the stars is a relief. Truly, Captain Yskra, thank you. I will make sure to send you the full reward."

“The bounty did not actually say how much it was…"

“Her weight in gold is what I've decided. You've earned it!"

“Wha-wha-what!?" Desty exclaims. “We don't make more than half a kilogram's worth in a year! Can you make sure that kind of a transfer won't draw attention?

“Well. No. That will always draw eyes. But you are a wayward crew, no?" Amadeo asks. “It was certainly not easy to track you down even with as many eyes as I have."

“Yes, but unfortunately… I have debts unpaid with the Pirate Queen. More like thorn in my side, honestly. Once there's enough of a score to be worth tracking me down… I think she'll come to collect more than just the gold," Yskra explains with a thumb drawn across his throat.

“I see… I will send you a portion and make the rest available when you should need it, in that case."

“No, no, that just makes me worth blackmailing. And selling that much gold off or using those kind of funds for someone like myself is… risky. Can you get me new gear instead?"

“Certainly! I am happy to accommodate you for this service, yes!"

The happy tone suddenly shifts as the alarm bell begins ringing from above.

“Sloops coming in from starboard in a battle formation! We got a gang of some kind headed straight for us!" Robyn yells from the crow's nest.

“Have you got a spyglass handy?" Amadeo asks Yskra as they rush to the railing, the raptor wordlessly passing him a small one from his pocket.

“Rumgunners," Amadeo hisses, “No flag but I know them anywhere. I thought we lost them at the last port."

“And I don't think your sloop can outrun their glider crafts. No point in turning on our engines either; they'll just shoot them. Get below deck, we'll handle this."

“Very well. Where would you like my men?"

“Can they move quick?"

“No, not really. Their armor is impervious, however!"

“Take them below with you; they'll function much better in tight quarters," Yskra says, pointing to the stairs that will take him below deck. “And tell your sloop to stay moored. It's a sitting duck either way."

Mango has already let Desty and the other crew walk her down the steps, Amadeo swiftly following afterwards with his armored guards, shouting to his crew on the warsloop to ready their cannons for targets that come in range.

“Belay battle stations! I have a new scavenger hunt for you all! Get back into your teams and start collecting broken engines and knocked out Rumgunners! Off with ya now, before we start taking cannon fire!" Yskra bellows, Zaryl and Valkyrie echoing his orders,

From the Rumgunners perspective, they're heading towards the Archie where their target is tucked behind it, and it couldn't be a simpler plan to capture both. Then suddenly there is a wide line of glittering sails launching off it. The few sloops with spyglasses don't quite understand what they're looking at until it's too late. Even with firearms at the ready, the bootleggers are not even remotely trained in melee combat like the professional pirates of the Wicked Gold. The opposing crews clash in gunpowder in steel as the pirates charge into them, and through the smoke, the bright colors and devil may care grins punch through, knocking out and tying up crew while destroying the motors, sails, and rigging to devastating effect.

It's over in a matter of minutes, and Yskra breathes a sigh of relief when all the crew is accounted for alive. Bullet wounds in a few of them, yes, but nothing some R&R can't fix.

“Any of the sloops left functioning?" Yskra asks Zaryl, the first mate having just received the full battle report.

“A few. Enough to let those idiots limp back home, I should think."

“Take any firearms and weapons that aren't junk, toss the rest, and send these amateurs off as soon as possible. Amadeo will want blood, knowing how he's dealt with them in the past, and I'm not getting pulled into his feuds."

“Aye aye."

With that Yskra goes down below to inform the rest of the crew, finding the armored bodyguards first and shortly thereafter a bemused Amadeo.

“So swiftly you dealt with them?" Amadeo asks, baffled as Yskra announces the danger has passed.

“Take a look yourself; there's nothing but wrecked ships out there now. Is Valkyrie or Desty around here? I should think they would have Mango with them."

“Hah, Mango. Is that what she told you her name was? That was what she called her imaginary friend as a girl, a saboteur and spy, she said. She locked herself in the quarters of her friend; my daughter is not happy to see me."

“I'll talk to them."

Knocking on Valkyrie's door with Amadeo waiting behind him, Yskra is surprised when there's no prompt answer upon calling the dragon's name. That clues him in to knowing immediately they're not in there, and there is a mischief underway.

“We need to get to top deck," Yskra states. “I've got a bad feeling."

As they rush up the stairs, they're just in time to see a small group rush through the warsloop's crew, visible among them Mango hitting a man across the knee with a wooden hammer in perfect form for croquet. They commandeer the tiny lifeboat onboard, casting away and flitting off into the distance like an arrow with the rush of an absurdly large motor stuffed in a small craft.

“What was that?" Yskra asks him.

“My ship's escape boat."

“How fast does it go?"

“Not faster than the sloop, but just about," Amadeo says shortly, sighing under his breath as he climbs aboard it with the guards following suit. “Yskra, for saving my life, I give you this."

The nightjar tosses him a pocket watch, engraved and gilded with intricate, painstaking patterns and complex clockwork ticking away within.

“But for losing my daughter, the bounty is off!" He calls as the warsloop pulls away.

As Amadeo departs, Yskra turns around to see Valkyrie coming up the stairs as she wiggles herself free of binds around her wrist, pulling off a silk shirt that was tied around her mouth as a gag.

“Let me guess: Desty?" Yskra sighs.

“Desty," She agrees with equal enthusiasm. “Mango knew he had some kind of fancy racing craft as a lifeboat and Desty rounded up a few of the crew, including Helm, to get to it."

“If that otter was with them, no wonder they plowed straight through. Where is Desty now?"

“Helping the songbird navigate. She said they'd make their way back to where we're selling our loot off after seeing Mango through her journey."

“I see. Do you know where they're going?"

“No. Only that Mango is going to find her mother like she wanted to originally."

“Who would that be?"

“Ghierra of the Songspears. I believe she leads them now."

“Oh," Yskra says quietly. “Shit. She just pushed us out of the way of one scary bullet."

“Don't tell her that or she'll want a raise."

“I'm well aware," He snorts. “She's clever: what was her plan to keep Amadeo from catching up?"

“Well," She says, taking a moment to look around before nodding toward the dinghy parked just behind where the warsloop was with a large fuel tank loaded on it. “It would appear she privateered some fuel from him."

Yskra lets out a laugh, saying, “You'll need to filter it first."

“Hmm? How come?" Valkyrie queries, confused.

“I had one of the upstarts in the rigging fill it with metal shavings."

“What? You're no better than her! Don't meant to tell me you intended to double cross the man from the start?" Valkyrie chorkles.

“Almost! Once I saw Mango drinking our rum without wincing, I knew she'd be just fine on her own. A little acclimation was all she needed," Yskra nods. “I was going to tell him to flock off if she still didn't want to leave. We outnumbered him after all, so I expected him to take it on the chin without any altercations. And. Well. With a knocked-out engine, it'd certainly take him longer to get another bounty out than it would for us to leave the system. Really, this is better: Mango walks free of him, and I got a nice watch to boot!"

After a few days of passing through rocky fields, empty voids, rocky planets, winking stars, and broiling suns with only passing comets for company, the life raft finally comes to a stop at a heavy wooden dock. The custom craft sounds not nearly as good as it used to, backwater fuel they were forced to refill it with not agreeing with the calibrated engine. Mango and the rest step onto the deck and stretch out stiff muscles, drawing eyes.

Dressed like sailors but far more scarred, armed, and in some cases armored, the starwhalers strike a fearsome picture from where they sit upon their vessels partially constructed from bone and bristling with spears. Walking up the dock, the group is stopped by a small clerk with similar clothes to the rest of the whalers but only wielding a quill and paper.

“Names and business?" The mouse asks very business-like.

“Mango. I'm here to see my mother Ghierra. These others are with me."

“I see…," The mouse says, looking her up and down before nodding. “You certainly look like it. I'll take you to her."

Leading them to a bar, she motions for them to go inside before returning business. It's filled enough to be lively without a crowd, a brightly lit place constructed of hard wood and padded seating with a warm bar stocked with every color and manner of spirit. It's manned by a mountain of a lion who takes one glance at Mango and then looks pointedly towards a table in the middle of the hustle and bustle.

Grinning as she takes a large mouthful of booze, a familiarly colored avian converses back and forth with three men. The marked difference is she's built like a brick shit house, her arms bare of feathers from heavy scarring and leaving brawny muscle on display. White streaks the feathers along her face from old wounds, grooves in her beak and a finger missing on the left hand. The feathers on her head are groomed and grow in a bright, righteous crest above piercing crimson eyes. She wears only pants, her breasts on full display with heavy piercings and broad enough shoulders to crush anyone who would be stupid enough to tug on them.

Navigating toward their table, Mango takes a deep breath, not sure what to expect but determined to see it to the end.

“Excuse me," She says as she approaches, the table looking up at her.

“Starburst?" Ghierra gasps, nearly tipping her chair over as she stands up, well over two meters tall and towering over Mango like a titan.

“Hiiii, mom," Mango says tiredly, recognizing her mother's pet name for her. “You're looking… a lot more comfortable than when I last saw you."

“And you look like shit. Your friends do too! Come, sit, food and drinks are on mste."

Sitting Mango down next to her, room is made at the table for the others as they all introduce themselves and Mango explains why she's here.

“Amadeo wanted to sell you off to a star baron? To hell with that!" Ghierra scoffs. “Had I known that when I left, I would have taken you with me instead. Better life my ass, Amadeo."

“What do you mean by that?" Mango asks.

“I'm not a housewife. Hell, I couldn't be a mother, and I wanted to. But I drink, brawl, fight, hunt, it's who I am. And it terrified him. He talked me into leaving you with him, said he could give you a better life than I ever could while I stayed in the picture. With all his money, I thought he was right."

“I've had enough of the consequences that come with that kind of money."

“You know, that's how our rift started," She chuckles. “After I told him something along those lines."

“If I can ask," Desty says. “How did… you two happen?"

“Me and Amadeo? Well, I've lived a hard life, and that makes me like soft men." Ghierra replies.

“Ah. Fair enough."

“So. Is there any chance I could stay with you? I don't think he'd ever find me here." Mango asks nervously.

“If he does, I'll twist his spine into a knot with my bare hands," Ghierra smirks. “Of course, Starburst! We've got plenty to catch up on."

“Just to be clear, you're not going to try to match make me either?" She giggles.

“Depends, do you find men who can split blubber from flesh attractive?"

“Can't say I do!"

“Then whattaya know, I'm fresh out of candidates."

“Awww, I'm glad it all works out in the end," Desty croons.

With that sorted out, Mango asks Ghierra about her life after she left, and soon the candles against the walls burn down to stubs with their conversation nowhere near done.