Another Soul Aboard

[The_Godslayer]

---

The.Wellerman

Bar

---

8/2/835

---

Another lively day is in the process of passing aboard The Wellerman. Their excursions to the Tau areas had been delayed due to some insider information provided by the twins for their safety. Real days off are rare aboard this research vessel, whether it be paperwork for Planetform or searching out research subjects. The stress of needing to do something, whether or not there was something to do, was seldom unseen, which means true days to simply relax without deadlines or expectations were a welcome change of pace.

Adding to the excitement in the air was an announcement of a new crew member. Arthur himself, as the warden aboard, had been briefed on the new convict. The others were left to imagine. He was actually there, right in front of them, a stasis pod in the process of de-activating. The name displayed across the top of the pod gave him a name: Damien James Kirkpatrick. They didn't have a list of crimes for him yet, either, but they could ask him things when he finished thawing. Only a few more minutes.

Matt had taken up his favorite position: behind the bar. The twins had flanked Arthur as soon as he had arrived, and had been cooing over him the whole time. Taminba had struck up a game of Liar's Dice with Devon and Charles. The fact that he had was a testament to his charisma, as he seldom lost, and very few wished to play with him, ever.

---

In only a few minutes, the crew had managed to get themselves reasonably inebriated. The Gallic twins with wine, Arthur with his gin, Matthew had his beer, and Taminba, Devon, and Charles had wagered shots of Rum as collateral for their game. While they were distracted, the cryo pod began unsealing. No one noticed, however, as Matthew had kicked up his favorite shanty to start the night.

"I went into a public house to get a pint o' beer,
The publican he up an' says: We serve no Baffers here
The girls behind the bar they laughed and giggled fit to die
I outs into the street again, an' to myself says I:

Arthur knew which line was his, and joined in.

"Oh it's Arthur this, and Arthur that, and "Arthur go away"
But it's "Thank you, Mister Weller" when the band begins to play
The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play
O' it's "Thank you, Mister Weller" when the band begins to play"

Taminba enjoyed this song moreso that it poked fun at their captain than any other reason.

"I went into a theater as sober as could be
They gave a drunk civilian room, but hadn't none for me
They sent me to the gallery or 'round the music halls
But when it comes to fighting, HAH! They'll shove me in the stalls"

"For it's Arthur this, and Arthur that, and "Arthur wait outside"
But it's "All aboard for Weller" when the troops are planetside
The troopships in the sky, my boys, the troopships in the sky
It's "All aboard for Weller" when the troops are planetside"

"Oh makin mock of uniforms that guard you while you sleep
Is cheaper than them uniforms, and they're starvation cheap
Them hustlin' drunken sodgers when they're goin' large a bit
Is five times better business than paradin' in full kit"

"Then it's Arthur this, and Arthur that, and "Arthur, how's your soul?"
But it's "London's saved by heroes" when the drums begin to roll
The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums begin to roll
And it's "London's saved by heroes" when the drums begin to roll"

"We ain't no London Heros, we aint no Leedsguard too
We're crewmen on a freighter, unremarkable like you
And if sometimes our conduct isn't all your fancy paints
Well, single men on freighters don't grow into plaster saints"

"Well it's Arthur this, and Arthur that, and "Arthur, fall behind"
But it's "Please to walk in front, good sir" when trouble's got your time
There's trouble due in time, my boys, there's trouble due in time
And it's "Please to walk in front, good sir" when trouble's got your time"

"You talk o' better food for us, and schools, and drinks, and all
We'll wait for extra rations if you treat us rational
Don't mess about the cook-room, boys, but prove it to our face
For Arthur's uniform is not his good crewmen's disgrace

"For it's Arthur this, and Arthur that, and "Chuck him out, the brute"
but it's "Savior of his country" when the guns begin to shoot
And it's Arthur this, and Arthur that, and anything you please
And Arthur aint a bloody fool, you'll bet that Arthur sees!"

---

Damien was baffled by the sight before him. He was put on ice and told he was being transferred to a classified prison project. He figured it would be some kind of "advanced interrogation", and all the horrors that followed with that. Instead, as his pod unsealed, he was met with the sight of a bar, and some drunken fools singing a song. He considered the possibility that he had died and gone to heaven, but quickly shot that idea down because he knew he wasn't going to make it into heaven.

When you have questions and no answers, the only thing left to do is ask. So, when they wrapped up their song, he asked the question burning his mind:
"Well what's all this, ya cunts?"

The cyborg behind the counter grinned. "Oh, I think I can get along with this one."
"I'm sure ye will, Matty. Ladies, Gentlemen, our newest inmate: Damien Kirkpatrick, Hellfire Legion. Introductions, everyone."

The cyborg bartender: "Matthew O'Shea, Molly's.'
The black man in a Naval suit: "Taminba Mufefwe, Coalition."
"The who-now?"
"Ta - Min - ba - Mu - fe - fwe"
"Tammy?"
He shrugged. "Tammy works."

The twin blondes: "Joan d'Auvergne"
"Jeanne dAuvergne"
"Gallic Royal Navy and Gallic Nobility." Their synchronization was unearthly, as if they temporarily became one person, at least in their voice.

The last two, who had been rolling dice with Taminba, spoke up at last: "Charles Taylor." "Devon Kingston"
"We're actually not convicts, we're part of Arthur's last crew. You'll learn real fast that if you stick with Wellerman, you'll make it out alive."

And finally, the leader. Shaggy dirty blonde hair, like a lion's mane strapped to a wise old sailor man. He had a long coat that looked almost like a cape, and a few Armed Forces ribbons were sewn into its arm. "Don't go misleading people, Charles. I'm Arthur. Arthur Brandon Wellerman the Third, retired Armed Forces Cruiser captain, current captain of the research vessel The Wellerman, and your new warden. For the first few months, I'll keep your bomb collar active, and as long as you don't pull a John Paul Jones, I'll deactivate it."

His reception had been so warm it was making him dizzy. He had guessed he was simply going to be tortured until they got information or he died. The comical assortment of crew in front of him almost made him forget he was a prisoner, bomb collar and all. While his brain tried to kickstart into gear, he managed to piece together an introduction himself. "Damien Krikpatrick, Hellfire Legion. I got caught in Manchester trying to hunt down a Junker that scammed some buddies of mine."
"Cruiser patrol?"
Damien raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, how'd you guess?"

The entire set of inmates laughed, confusing Damien more. Matthew simply motioned to Arthur, and Damien started putting the pieces together. "The Mary Ellen Carter?"
Arthur nodded. "That's the one."
"Crikey. So what was so funny, then?"

Taminba seemed to be on the verge of bursting into laughter again. "Tell me, what's something that would be very, very unlikely? Perhaps even a joke played on us all by the crown. A bunch of inmates who knew exactly who put you behind bars."
The dots connected again and Damian was nearly at a loss for words. "All of you?!?"
They simply laughed again. Matthew motioned him over to the bar. "Fancy a pint? Old Sol Guinness™. We got some downtime before we head out again."
"Suppose a beer's never hurt a man before."
"That's the spirit, come over here."

---

The night passed smoothly with the new inmate. They gathered at the bar and told the stories of how they were captured. Taminba had been baited forward and isolated with his overzealous charge, and had even been captured despite fighting until the guns on his battlecruiser had all been blown off. The twins had simply been outskilled, outmaneuvered, and outwitted during the final push into New London. Matthew, the only one who'd even wounded Arthur, did so with a bomb vest which he had no intention of surviving.

Taminba was a kind, old prankster. The twins were an inseparable pair of devious teases who proudly proclaimed to be aiming for Arthur's hand in marriage. Matthew was a bartender, yes, but he was also a scholar. Masters of political science, still studying, too. Charles and Devon were apparently a couple, but they were very vague about it. They said they were married to The Milkmaid, the ship they had served on with Arthur. And Arthur? He's certainly a big Golden Retriever of a man, but he's a battle hardened veteran, and he was carrying some hefty guilt. The kind that doesn't let you sleep at night, the kind that keeps you moving because if you ever stop, it catches right back up.

Yes, The Wellerman was a prison. But it was also a research freighter contracted under Planitform Inc., and somehow, someway, a home full of people. Interesting people that were brought together by some common circumstances. Terrorists, warcriminals, and simple transport crewmen. Damien was still suspicious that there was more to it, but it honestly remained to be seen.

For now, a day off and a good, cold glass of beer was a better welcome than Damien could have ever hoped for.

---

I'll do something about my superiority complex when I cease to be superior.

"Whatever happened to catchin' a good old-fashioned passionate ass-whoopin and gettin' your shoes, coat, and your hat tooken?"