kirktastic | [We Interrupt Your Usual RP to Bring You... International Talk Like a Pirate Day!]

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you are a pirate!

[We Interrupt Your Usual RP to Bring You... International Talk Like a Pirate Day!]

It was morning on the Enterprise, and it came with the slow creaking of wood deck around him, swelling in the heat of the morning, the sound of waves against the sides of the ship. Definitely a damn good way to wake up.

Even better was waking up between two warm bodies, one pressed to either side of him. On one side was his cabin boy, a young buck with a foolish head but a pleasing face and tongue. On the other, his first mate, a smug, stoic, uptight, ridiculously intelligent bastard who he had finally talked into ...sharing his bed. At least in the physical sense. He'd won the argument that the captain's bed was the most comfortable place on the ship, but anything beyond that was met with a pointed look and a reach for the sword hilt.

It was a damn good life here on the Enterprise.

He was Captain James T. Kirk of the pirate ship Enterprise, the most feared name on the open seas. He ran his crew with a mixture of charm, command, and the point of his sword. He was a good swordsman, a better brawler, and decent with a flint lock.

[OOC: This will be the ONLY pirate thread everyone, no multiple posts on multiple journals! Post just in here for this! Today only!]

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The pirate ship Enterprise was a menace to civilized society. Ephram had vowed to capture its captain, arrest its crew, and see that justice was done for their pirating crimes.

If only he could find them. The ship was bloody difficult to track down.

"...Hm." Regards the map before him with a keen eye and glances up at the Foriegn Marshal Ephram. "The Enterprise has stolen it's last shipment of H.R.H. Mandana's latinum."

He stands from his chair, his hand settling elegantly against the rapier at his hip, and drops a fine carved ivory piece on the crossroads of the Neutral Waters.

"I shall see to it he takes no more," Commodore Nero Fae'Tayor swore with an inclination of his head and a light upturn of his lips.

Ephram returns the curl of lips. "Latest intelligence puts the last location of the Enterprise...here." He moves the ivory piece just over the Federation border of Neutral Waters. "It puts the ship under my jurisdiction...but I will defer to you as commander of this ship, Commodore."

"I request that the Captain and as many crew as possible be taken alive."

Nero regards the man with a lightly raised eyebrow and a placid, slightly patronizing smile. "Of course, and H.R.H. Mandana appreciates your indulgence in the matter, Lord Ephram.

"The Captain and crew are criminals from the Rihannsu crown, as well as the Federated states," he adds as he eyes the map-piece and moves around the table, failing to adjust it back across the border into the Neutral Waters of the Rihannsu Main.

"We recieved word that they will be traveling into the Main, toward the Isla del Risa," Nero continued, moving to the chest against the aft wall. He withdrew a bottle of Rihannsu Ale and two glasses and poured as he spoke. "We will intercept them, of course." He turned and extended a drink to the Foriegn Marshal. "Is that acceptable?"

Ephram takes the drink, mindful of Nero's fingers; he'd heard the man reacted strongly to touch. "It's acceptable." He lets the Commodore's disdainful tone slide...for now.

"As long as they don't attempt requesting asylum with the Orion Syndicate, we have a fair chance of catching them." Ephram's nose wrinkled. Pirates were preferable to Orion slavers.

"Hn..."

Nero pauses and regards his drink before him, turning the glass in the mid-morning light. The gentle blue is reminiscient of his home waters and being so far from them puts him in a sour mood. He scowls lightly and then turns a bright smile toward the Foreign Marshal.

"If they do, we shall simply have to...be more mindful in our pursuit." He tilts the glass back and takes a drink, savoring the sharp flavor of the beverage with a light hiss of appreciation.

"Lord Ephram, you are skilled in the arts of infiltration are you not?" His smile does not reach his eyes, but his tone is respectful and even. "Should we be forced to conceal ourselves, I should not like to abandon...the Federated States by leaving their officer behind."

Ephram raises an eyebrow at the Commodore. "I am capable of fending for myself, as well as concealing my identity, should it become necessary. I'm not a sheltered Lord, sir.

"As to the mindfulness of our pursuit, I expect you to use nothing less than all resources at your disposal...which includes service of my own sword."

If Nero's tone became any more respectful, Ephram might be obliged to remind the Commodore that he, Ephram, was no pushover.

"Of course," Nero acquiesced, his tone light and easy as he motioned blithely with his free hand. "I would do nothing less in the pursuit of such hazardous ruffians.

"There is no need for offense, good sir," Nero added and punctuated his statement by finishing his drink. "I merely wished to pose a inquiry.

"My curiosity is quite sated."

"Then we are at an agreement."

Ephram was accustomed to military personnel assuming things of him. It never failed to rankle him, though. With a long drink from his own glass of ale, he considered their pursuit of Enterprise.

"How long do you estimate until we catch up to our...quarry?" he asked.

Nero replaced his glass genially onto the tabletop, settling the formed crystal against the mark of Isla del Risa. He examined the map briefly and adjusted his shoulders before turning back to the Foriegn Marshal.

"If my navigator's estimates are correct," Nero prefaced and paused, gently folding his hands at his sides, "and they always are. We should arrive before the next dawn.

"Well in time to circumvent The Enterprise and her crew."

"Good." He paused, wishing that he could simply give orders rather than defer to this commander. What use were his services if he had to constantly ask Nero?

"Your recommendations for a boarding party, then? And do keep in mind my request to capture them alive if at all possible. Justice should be served in a civilized court of law and not at the end of a blade, however one - including myself - might wish it."

Nero's expression tightened slightly, his smile growing sharper around the edges as he genially inclined his head. He did not relish being told his job by a spoilt Federated Lord, no matter how H.R.H. desired his cooperation. He would, however, do anything she requested of him.

"The party must be kept small, discreet," he answered. "This adhered to, it is far less likely that we shall have to resort to...violence. Sabotage and covert capture are often far more effective."

Ephram noticed Nero's expression, though outwardly his slightly bland tilt of an eyebrow did not change. He knew that kind of tight smile. As long as orders were followed and results reached, he could ignore it.

"Of course," Ephram said, agreeing with the need for discretion. "I would like to avoid violence, to be honest. It's...beneath us, don't you think? Battles of wits are much more satisfying in the end."

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The Foriegn Marshal Ephram was being housed in the Bosun's quarters, for the time being, a room smaller than his or his first officer's, but not without distinct merit. It was the quietest and most removed room on the ship and offered both relative privacy as well as personal space. While Nero was neither required nor expected to request entry to any quarter on his own ship, he tucked the bottle of Ale beneath his arm and rapped solidly on the wood of the door.

Ephram answered the knock promptly. He was grateful for the privacy these quarters allowed, if he had correctly interpreted the earlier look of appraisal from the Commodore. Ephram had shed his heavy jacket, his crisp white long sleeved shirt and vest were warm enough for below decks. It also afforded a less formal atmosphere, as he was hoping this evening would be more...friendly.

"Good evening, Commodore," he said as he gestured for Nero to enter.

Nero inclined his head, his hat and wig cast aside for the evening along with his formal coat. He withdrew the bottle from beneath his arm and the concurrent glasses from the hand holding it, and stepped through the threshold, past the Marshal.

"And to you, yourself, Lord Ephram."

Closing the heavy wooden door behind himself, Ephram sighed slightly. "I'm not overly fond of my title tonight. You could address me by name...Nero."

He indicated a small table by the near wall where the bottle of ale could be set. "Perhaps a drink before chess?"

"Hm, very well, Ephram," Nero commented with an incline of his head and moved to the table. The glasses thudded against the wood with a minute clink and he uncapped the bottle, filling the two easily before setting the bottle aside. He clast a glance over his shoulder at the blonde and extended a glass as he took one of the two seats.

"It is a very fine vintage."

He liked the sound of his name. Arrogance, maybe, but it was his name after all and pride in oneself wasn't necessarily bad. He watched Nero as the commander moved. Graceful. Confident. Accepting the filled glass, he swirled the liquid slightly before taking a drink.

"It shows," he murmured, eyes not on his drink but on Nero.

Nero arched an eyebrow, his eyes locked on Ephram as the man's lips pressed against the glass and he tilted the crystal. Their eye contact maintained even as the long lines of Ephram's throat rippled with his swallow and the glass lowered before him.

"I'm glad you approve," Nero replied evenly and swirled his own glass before setting it back on the table. He reclined back in his chair languidly, with the grace of a man used to power, and smirked. As Ephram swirled his glass again, Nero's eyes closed. When his eyes reopened, they were fixated on Ephram's lips.

"You've missed a bit," Nero commented idly, the edge of his own tongue darting out in phantom reponse to the light film of blue on Ephram's lower lip.

He liked how the man reclined. He was even beginning to appreciate that smirk.

"Such quality is difficult to come by. It would be a shame to waste." Ephram let his tongue slide slowly out over his lower lip. If Nero was going to watch him...well. He took another measured drink, watching Nero through the tilted glass. When he had swallowed, his tongue darted out again to capture any remnants of liquid on his lips. "Did I miss any that time?"

Nero watched the man with unwaivering focus, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as Ephram maneuvered, played his gambit. His eyes drifted from the white-haired man's, to his lip, and then down the long line of his crisply dressed arm to the glass in his hand. Wordlessly, Nero drew himself out of his chair and closed the short space between them.

His eyes fell heavy on Ephram's lips, and his smirk widened at the edges. Drink and chess indeed, Foriegn Marshal. His gaze drifted and his hand closed around Ephrams. His fingers were hot and lightly calloused, and he relished the feel of the back of the man's hand. Blindly, his grip shifted and he took the small, empty glass, relieving the Marshal of its weight.

"None, in fact," Nero answered and looked up to regard the man again. "Would you care for another draught, Ephram?"

"I would."

Ephram leaned into Nero's personal space, if any such space was left between them now. That hand on his was warm and welcome. The eyes regarding him were dark and appraising. Ephram smirked. Nero knew how to play this game.

Slowly, wondering how much leeway he had here on the Commodore's ship, Ephram pressed closer. His breath touched Nero's lips first, scented with the Rihannsu ale and warm with promise. "A fine vintage should be...appreciated to its fullest," he murmured. Then his lips touched Nero's.

Nero tilted his head, sliding his mouth across Ephram's, lining them up with casual, crisp accuracy. His tongue slipped across his lips and traced Ephram's, wiping the light flavor of ale from them with a clean, meditated swipe. His grip around the glass shifted and his fingers twisted tighter around Ephram's hand--a minute sharpness, just a bare, lazy indication of intent. He pulled back slightly, allowing a whipser of air between them as his dark eyes focused on Ephram's face.

"I believe this is check," Nero commented and his smirk rose in tandem with his eyebrow. His free hand ghosted across Ephram's arm and his fingers wrapped around the white-haired man's wrist, wrinkling fine linen as he pulled them flush together.

Breathless from such a brief kiss, Ephram regarded Nero from under hooded eyes. His free hand slid over Nero's waist in an echo of the Commodore's gesture, feeling the muscle and power beneath fabric there. "Mmm," he said, the sound appreciative, "I believe so."

Deliberately slow, Ephram took a step, pushing Nero backward. "Well-played, to put me in check so soon." Another step. "It might take some...maneuvering" another step "to end this impasse."

A final step pushed Nero back against the cabin wall, Ephram's weight pinning but not trapping the Commodore against the wood. Chest to thigh their bodies touched, body heat seeping through cool fabric.

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