The Choirmaster strides forward behind Celeste, humming some nameless tune alongside his servoskull, as the ugly servitor plods along further behind, making faint bass notes in accompaniment. It's a arrogant, needlessly pompous sort of stride, with the sort of disproportionately large steps a narcissist is free to take when inordinately powerful, or, at the very least, under the protection of terrifyingly powerful others. He'd had some misgivings and doubts about joining up with these pirates, but with blessed solid ground once more beneath his feet, all of that initial hesitation seems to have melted away. Look at these people, these guns! Who would ever dare challenge them, who would even think to oppose Verdi on even the most inconsequential of matters, when he has allies with more capacity for destruction than a drunk ogryn in a china shop?

 "Oooh! Leave one of the children, if there are any! Medley needs to practice his high notes!" The composer pleads. The servoskull is a useful aid, but can only mimic voices in so many octaves at the present time. Insufficient, if the Choirmaster is to properly fulfill his duties, both to himself, and to the strange pirate lord behind this hapless expedition. Not that he has any idea what the Pirate Prince actually wants of him, of course. Captain Nero was frustratingly obtuse about what Verdi's role in this operation was, or even what the operation itself was meant to entail.