Siderial Scion (faerygunman) wrote in oddverse,
Siderial Scion
faerygunman
oddverse

Decision Time

"Hey, listen up everyone," said Siderial quietly, meaning that even those who heard him ignored him. He sighed and pushed gently off the ground, letting the momentum propel him upwards until he settled just in front of the ship's wheel.

He drew a raygun and shot at the deck a couple of times until most were quiet, then grazed a couple of the talkers in the knees. He blew the steam from his gun and holstered it.

"No, listen up and listen good," he said. "I don't want to raise my voice for this, because, uh, I can't."

"My leg! Xiao-Lu Christ, my leg!"

"Shut up, please," replied Siderial, quickly getting him in the other leg. "Now, there's good news and bad news. Good news is that we're being chased by a small fleet of zombie ships because I pissed off one of the necromancers responsible."

"Explain how that's good," asked a short female pirate towards the front of the crowd.

"They haven't caught us." Siderial rubbed the back of his neck and gestured to the stars sailing by outside. "We're faster and more, what's the word, manu'vrable. However, the bad news is that we're low on supplies and basically if we keep going on like this we're buggered."

"Fair enough," replied the pirate, looking more worried than she had been a moment ago.

"If we try and stop, those zombie ships will catch up to us and... well, yeah. There's not many places to go right now, and even fewer places to resupply at. There's an inhabited system just nearby, but you all know what they'll do if we bring undead in there."

The assorted pirates nodded glumly, knowing full well the threats they themselves had imparted on those foolish enough to attract the hungry eyes of the undead.

"There's Anansi Minor nearby, isn't there?" One of the pirates had his hand half-raised, a hopeful look on his scarred face. "I heard that place is full of jungles big enough to hide a ship."

"Yeah, an' it's also full of bloody giant spiders," said another pirate, this one twice as scarred as the first and almost half as tall. "Buggers as big as trucks that'll eat anything smaller'n them. I saws one, at the circus. They'd done trained it up to eat an 'ole ephelant."

"Boze's Star," said one of the younger pirates, but everyone around his pushed him roughly to shut him up.

"Sure, Boze's Star, then he can blow us up an' the zombies too," said the female pirate who'd spoken up earlier. "That bastard's ten times as grumpy as he was last century. There's no way he'd let us in, not unless one of us was a friend."

"We have to go somewhere," snapped Siderial. "We can't keep going this direction forever, not with the few supplies we've got left. And, in case you didn't know, the direction we're going in will take us straight into Undead space if we keep going."

"So, gunman, what do we do? I mean, you're first mate an' all," a big, burly pirate said defiantly. "I mean, you know more'n us. Make a decision."

Siderial frowned - they were right. He had to do something, make a decision, take them somewhere, get them away and safe from the Vorschaefans. But there was a risk - there was always a risk - that he couldn't afford to take. This was a dilemma, a problem that needed some serious thought.

"My leg! You faery bastard!"
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