[i]Annaveya Kushrina[/i] - [u]The Western Cross[/u]

0054 Hrs. 12 Hours to Present Time

[color=f6989d]"Piracy you say?"[/color] 

Came a mild voice as a setting of manila folders scattered themselves across a table made of steel. Smooth, nimble looking fingertips plucked them up from the table. Deftly filing through the pieces of collected intelligence, a pair of eyes inflicted with heterochromia glanced upward first to an attentively standing crewman. A light smirk played across her lips as the reflective bill of her captain's cap tilted downward with the further inspection of the report. Brushing a stray strand of platinum blonde hair off her cheek, she lightly set the folder down upon the table and looked up to the uniformed officer.

[color=f6989d]"Well, how much confidence do you place in this report?"[/color] She inquired first, looking curiously to the man.

[color=7bcdc8]"Ma'am, I would say with about fifty percent certainty according to our networks."[/color] He replied, while standing at parade rest; his gloved hands tightening nervously as the leather that made them cracked from the strain. 

[color=f6989d]"You idiot. Why did you even bother to bring this to me to begin with?"[/color] She hissed seethingly in turn.

Annaveya's inquisitive expression turned to one of rather blatant disgust. Leaning forward to rest her elbows upon the table, she lifted the captain's cap from her crown as one golden eye and one sapphire eye stared down the officer. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead as her fingertips folded together and her elbows came to rest upon the table. Strangely intense was the woman's gaze as she seemed to loathe the very expression of the man that faltered before her. Fifty percent was hardly conclusive, and she knew it all too well. Rather than dealing with Piracy, she and her bloodline were famously known for being exceptionally ruthless. 

Places that pirates were known to linger had often been reduced to rubble by the Kushrina Mercantile Empire's capital ships. Places much like the one that sat so aptly described by the report sitting on the table before her. Yet their actions would have to be explained to the crown, time and time again. Bothersome bits and pieces that was diplomacy, really. While the Kushrina family practically owned the Heavens above, those of actual royal blood held the authority of the Earth. Unlike royals, the Kushrina family would be held accountable for their actions. 

Rampant carpet bombing of a local tavern via a cannon barrage from a Kushrina ship was often frowned upon, even in the face of overwhelming evidence and certainty. Protests against their brutality when it came to protecting their assets happened often, but none could deny their effectiveness in such a measure. 

Even still, fifty percent was a rather interesting number. Perhaps it was time for her to touch down and partake in some cat and mouse-like investigation once again. 

[color=f6989d]"Officer, inform strike teams one and seven that we'll be going on an special operation. Subtlety is key here, after all."[/color]

With a fearful nod in recognition of her order, the officer bustled away nervously and left the Captain in her office alone once again. Still even then, she thumbed through the report, biting her bottom lip as she read the details. A fifty percent chance were not odds she liked, but it was enough to warrant closer investigation. Intelligence Assets had been falling rather short as of late, the Western Cross would have to discuss with her father about rescinding the current spies and replacing them with new, more competent ones soon enough. 

---------------------------------------------------------------

1254 Hrs

Two hours after infamous Kushrina Ship so aptly named [i]The Dawn's Guard[/i] had docked at the closest city to the Tavern, Annaveya stood in a small clearing of the forest where a gathering fourteen of men and women draped in blackened leather armor and subtle but sharpened weapons and crossbows stood. She herself stood proudly with a long crimson cloak whose edges were embroidered in gold. Upon her the outer portions of her thighs sat a pair of flintlock pistols, and upon her back hips sat a pair of solid-tang knives. 

[color=f6989d]"You all know why we're here. We're going hunting."[/color] The girl spoke concisely, with that ever present arrogant smirk on her lips. Looking to each of the men and women who stood before her. [color=f6989d]"This is our standard maneuver, I will go inside and inspect what's happening. If there is an overwhelming number of pirates, you will receive a signal within the hour. If it is one shot, that means we're moving in and being careful about the shots we take. If two, practically the entire tavern is filled with the rats. [b]Execute everyone on sight[/b]. [i]Understood[/i]?"[/color]

A resounding grim nod through the masses acted as acknowledgement of her order, of which there was only a final one. [color=f6989d]"Surround the Tavern, form a perimeter. No one gets out without use seeing to them first. Pirates will be [i]executed[/i], civilians will be set free. I will begin the infiltration once the perimeter has been set."[/color]

With barely a whisper of wind, the fourteen dissipated into the wild, leaving Annaveya standing there as she casually made for the nearest road through the forest. Along the deep ingrain of wheels against the dirt she would travel nonchalantly, looking inconspicuous as the dim lights that marked where the objective existed slowly but surely neared. She took her time, as the small strike team silently and stealthily dipped through the darkness to get their positions. Through the tall grass, they crawled, covered in mud and bits of the surrounding environment to remain invisible, in the shadows they would remain patiently in wait.

As she strode from the edge of the road into the tavern's clearing, there was a crickets chirrup three times in swift procession. It was a signal from their end. All were in position, all were simply lying in wait as the Captain casually made her way up to the Tavern's front door. Keeping her hood dipped low, the girl would meander towards the tavern's front bar and then she would slide to sit upon an empty barstool. Lofting a finger up to order a drink, the beautiful looking woman would order something that seemed a bit strong for someone of her supposed ilk.

[color=f6989d]"Whiskey, on the rocks please. If you don't mind."[/color] Was her request as slid the hood off her head to bring the platinum hair falling about her shoulders and mid-back. All the while, she listened, eavesdropping on conversations that lay scattered throughout. Listening for key words, or perhaps oddly spoken tongues for the sake of code and secrecy. It would only be a matter of time before she discerned whether or not this place needed to disappear or not. 

God help them all, if she chose for them to no longer exist. 

Patiently she sat, waited, and listened. Rotating the amber scotch in the colander slowly in her wrist, she partook in only a light sip of the sinful liquid on occasion. After all, there is a special place in hell for those who do not savor good whiskey. Concise as ever, her ears caught little of any piracy trafficking or talk, only of the nonsensical conversation of common blooded and less adventurous folk. 

As it turned out, the intelligence report was rather filled with nonsense. For which she managed a sigh of relief. As much as she despised Piracy, the killing of others who weren't involved had been alleviated. For that at least, she was thankful. 

However, the calm nature of the little tavern rapidly changed with the zealously grandiose eruption of the one who identified himself as Captain Edoric Thatch. While she didn't face him directly, she smirked arrogantly. After all, in the search for the scum of the earth, who would have thought for even a moment that one of the rats would fall into her lap?

Out of the corner of her golden eye, she watched him gallop about the tavern like a fool. Perhaps in madness, or perhaps in some way to show his cleverness or ability; needless to say, the actual Airship Captain was less than impressed. So she stood, carefully remaining within his shadow behind him as she slid smoothly forward. Her feet as light as a feather while she came up behind the supposed Pirate "Captain", as if he deserved such a title to begin with. 

For first time that Edoric would notice the Kushrina Mercantile Captain was the very moment that he felt something cold and hard press against the base of his neck. With it came a very audible click. Marking the sound of a Revolver's hammer being drawn back. Not a split second later, a similar hardness was found at the base of his spine; with a second click of a hammer being cocked and ready to fire if she simply twitched a finger.

[color=bc8dbf]"Edoric Thatch, I presume."[/color] She softly spoke, ever concisely. [color=bc8dbf]"I'm sure you know who I am, well, if you saw my face anyway. But no matter."[/color] While the revolver aimed at his spine didn't move, the one upon his neck moved forward. Just past his ear as the flintlock cane snapping down. With an uproarious sound, the shot fired a bright red flare into the distance through the opened door. 

Whispers on the wind marked the movement as the fourteen paramilitary members swiftly closed in their perimeter. Four of which swiftly moved with feline grace into the Tavern as Annaveya holstered the first revolver and instead drew a razor sharp knife. Holding it at the ready, she nudged the Pirate forward.

[color=bc8dbf]"Shall we take a walk, Edoric? I believe that we have some business to attend to. Primarily that I'd rather not put a grapefruit sized hole through your gut in front of all these fine people."[/color]