[@Quinntessential][@DrunkasaurusRex][@BCTheEntity][@Hank][@TemplarKnight07]


Sudden jerking spasms from the limbs of the towering figure before them caused the Krieger, who until this moment had made no move to explain himself or to even speak, to instinctively take a step back and reach for his las-gun. Although he did take the step back, he managed to stop himself from bringing a weapon to bear on their 'host', even as the robed Captain of the vessel began to gargle from behind the grille that had replaced his mouth - a horrible choking sound that sounded as if he were about to be sick; it took Phant more than a minute to realise that the movements and sounds wracking the spider-legged being was not some sudden fit, but the way he expressed extreme amusement...he was [i]laughing[/i] at them?!

"Apollyon Kaicero," Nico managed to hack up the name as he tried to stop laughing, "yes, I have heard of you."

With a little reluctance, a lot of effort, and a series of clicks from the mouthpiece implanted into his face, the Merchant-Captain gave each of them a long and thorough stare. They all appeared to be telling the truth, perfectly honest in their responses - even the barbaric Kroot and the unhinged mutant - and he was undoubtedly a good judge of people and their truths or lies. 

Perhaps they did have such a list, and perhaps they could be useful...

"You will hand the list to Servitor 835 here," came the words at a volume that could only have been unnaturally amplified, a servitor moving with uncharacteristic stealth to where the group stood and extending the clacking hook-like appendages where its hands had once been. Waiting just long enough for any exchange to be made, he turned his back on them with a clicking of metal legs against a metal floor, moving away at a brisk walking pace and gesturing them further into the vessel, "follow me and keep up, this is a large ship and one can find themselves easily lost."


[hr]


[I]The Pride[/i] was certainly not a luxury liner, it was large, cold and those that crewed it were either brain dead servitors or equally cold members of the crew, the Captain however was leading them deeper into the ship and to a series of chambers usually reserved for dignitaries, fellow traders, or those that were not part of the ships delicate internal workings. 

There were a number of chambers, each identical in their sparsity - containing a simple bed, a storage unit for clothing and a footlocker for weapons, a wash basin and toilet, and a small cogitator unit for access to the outside world. Upon the door of each chamber was hastily scratched the names of one of the mercenary survivors, that of the Lexmechanic seemingly added to one room as an afterthought. All rooms were located around a central square 'rec-room', a Regicide board neatly set up, more comfortable seating than that found inside the rooms (these primarily made for storage and sleeping), as well as food, drink and a larger cog-unit for more detailed information if one should wish it...detailed enough to access the black net, if one had the thought to.

"Feel free to make use of these rooms, but do not go wandering the ship; I shall return after I have looked into your recovered data and contacted the Conglomerate."

A hiss and wheeze was all that accompanied the Captain out, the door shutting with a clang behind him.