Cooperation

"Wod ye bloody move, Tycon?? if'n ye keep so close, I cannae hear o'er the sound of me beatin' heart!!"

Eilean tried to shove Tycon with her shapely behind. He didn't budge. Even using her body weight, the petite Sea Witch was not very strong.

Undeterred, Tycon continued placing his ear on the cup held to the door, "Have you considered respecting your Captain's privacy, Eilean?"

"Hald yer wheesht, ye boak potato."

Tycon poked the back of the woman's orange head, "What does that even mean?"

"It's a starchy tuber 'at ye can shove up yer arse, err... yer laerdship. Now shoosh yer gob!"

Tycon grimaced. There was another reason he missed Aurala. The princess would never suggest shoving a root vegetable up his arse.

The two remained at the door, catching bits and pieces of Hai's and Chantal's conversation. There was a bit of moaning, but Tycon highly doubted anything of a sexual nature was happening behind the closed doors.

Eilean, however, remained both positive and giddy, "OooOoh I hoop the wee Cap'n can take the Lady out on the skite."

Tycon sighed, "As reluctant as I am to admit this, I also hope he's doing well."

...

Fleet Admiral Chantal, the Grand-Capitaine of the Darktide Fleet, gazed up at the 12 fulm tall Lang Hai. The twerp had transformed into a strange needle-mouthed hybrid fish, complete with swirling tentacles and black, beady eyes.

Half of the words the Little Captain spoke, he immediately made excuses for. The other half... as absurd as his phrasing was, she could not deny his honesty. As much as she wanted to loathe the Marine-Captain, she found his true form quite handsome and his straightforwardness *almost* charming.

She looked at the pitifully small pistol in her hand, again clicked on the safety and holstered it. It was useless against a Sea Wolf-- she supposed it was a force of habit.

The Beaurte Fleet had transformed into an entirely different beast after several years under Grand-Capitaine Lang Hai. The Sea Wolf Curse had no small part in the change, a gift Hai had brought, himself, from the rumored Sea Wolf Hidden Sect. But Chantal now saw that the boy had a sense of duty and honest charisma-- it was no surprise that he had attracted powerful allies like the Sea Witch, Eilean, and the Golden Crow, Shao Ran.

Chantal sighed. Perhaps she had been too hasty? Lang Hai's unselfish actions had nothing to do with his predecessors and the unjust death of her father.

He was too stupid to be a part of such an immoral plot.

...

Lang Hai focused to keep from shivering. Releasing his form usually came with relief, like a business-person taking off his restricting coat at the end of the day. Hai forced his muscles still, his fins retracted, and his naturally writhing tentacles down and straight.

He didn't want to clumsily knock any of his surroundings down. And he was miserable because of it.

Chantal rolled her eyes with a deep sigh, "Very well, Capitaine. I appreciate your courtesy."

Each of her words dripped with displeasure, stabbing Hai's heart worse than a rusty knife.

She made a soft motion with her hand holding a wisp of mana.

BANG. CRACKKKK.

Hai lost control of his body, dropping to both knees immediately. He heard the bones crunch against the hard, wooden deck, but with the adrenaline pumping crazily through his body, he felt no pain. His head went down and his lidless eyes stared at the floor. Not looking her in the eyes and making his huge body as low to the deck as possible relieved the unfamiliar pressure immensely.

"Be advised, Marine. I don't know where the Saltspray Kings keep their base, but I do know a resourceful adventuring company that can be of use to you. I promised I'd help them. You'll be the one to make good on that."

He listened intently to every seductive whispering uttered by Chantal's tongue, his heart racing to comprehend it all.

Chantal walked over to her desk and placed her ink quill to paper. Hai kept still for at least a quarter-bell before she finished writing.

"Here. Now get out of my office," Chantal sighed again.

Hai stole a glance upward to see her lovely chest heave and the longing gaze as she pouted.

Hai received the slip of paper, his massive clawed hand tenderly pinching the edges of the holy decree. The focus he utilized to not tear the tiny missive was not small.

Success? Mission Success. The mission was a SUCCESS!

AHAHA! There was no way this human woman would be able to resist his charm! Lang Hai was so great! And he didn't even get shot!

"Th-thank you, Lady-Capitaine Chantal!" Hai yelped miserably, "I… Lang Hai… Will always be your ardent admirer."

And so, the sailboat-sized mass of scaled flesh that was Lang Hai speed-crawled out of Capitaine Chantal's office.

...

One of the double-doors opened quickly, just enough to allow the 5 fulm, 4 ilm High-Captain Lang Hai to low-roll out.

Bam. He quickly slammed the door behind him.

Phew. Ouch?

Ow. It. Hurt. Ow. He vigorously rubbed his knees. Ouch. They had shattered moments ago but were healing quickly enough as Sea Wolf blood coursed through his legs.

Lieutenant Eilean and that nerd, Tycon, sat no more than a dozen feet away, comfortably conversing. Hai could have sworn he heard the two bickering at the door. He stood up and dusted off his horrifically torn coat and trousers before approaching. Maybe they wouldn't notice? They were both pretty stupid.

Eilean giggled bubbly, flashing a vivacious grin, "Earn yeself a fornacket and a half in thar, Cap'n?"

What did that even mean? Hai had learned to ignore half of what Eilean said. Thus far, it hadn't caused any problems.

"You didn't last very long, did you?" the green-haired idiot raised an eyebrow.

Whatever those two idiots were thinking, it was probably incredibly stupid.

"We're good, you two," Hai held up the piece of paper he'd attained.

Tycon, squinted his eyes, "What's it say?"

Hai grinned and looked at the paper, "It says the Sea Wolves are gonna get help by an Iron-Rank guild called Sol Invictus! All we gotta do is taxi them someplace! Ahaha! This day's going GREAT!!"

The noble fool went off into a corner and smashed his head against a wooden wall. Is that what nobles do to celebrate? Weird.

Hai turned to Eilean, "Lieutenant, we'll prepare a gift for Grand-Capitaine Chantal's cooperation. Prepare the funds!"

"Aye, Cap'n!" Eilean beamed. "I 'eard some spraff 'at Grand-Capitaine Guilliame fancied vanilla ice cream."

"Excellent," Hai grinned, walking towards the exit with confidence.

He'd send that domineering, overripe-melon woman a message. Hai was a petty person! He was determined to have the final laugh.

"We'll send her chocolate."