Help Unwanted

Musician

Deacon traversed the ship in a relatively good mood - easily forgiving one of the marines when they accidentally bumped into him. Speaking with Rooke lifted his spirits. He desperately needed reassurance in a time like this. He made a mental note to have a drink as soon as he could. He needed to unwind in a way that strayed from his cigarette pack. He felt bothered by how much he'd been smoking lately...

He boarded the Executioner and supervised the remaining sailors. Once all the cargo was onboard, they thanked Rooke and his temporary crew before sailing away. They moved towards the nearest stormgate that would take them to Cool Ranch. As soon as he was positioned at the captain's wheel, Dea casually slipped to his side.

"You must know each other pretty well." He turned his masked face in her direction. She clarified. "-General Rooke, I mean."

"I'm not giving him your number, if that's what you want." He scoffed humorously. She turned her head sharply at the comment.

"Very funny. Is it so bad to admire a man like him?"

He snorted. "You and all the other women in the Spiral."

This wasn't the first time he witnessed Rooke getting flirted with. He was usually swarmed when he was off-duty, which sometimes made their leisure together a little difficult. His brother took the attention well, but he never really knew what to do about it. His physique earned an adoration from various women - but none that the General asked for. Rooke didn't * want * to date anyone, since his job was demanding, and he didn't like the idea of having to leave his partner alone while he was risking his life in the line of duty.

Deacon related to him. His schedule had him visiting several islands in the span of a day, which meant he was rarely ever home. He was always taking refuge in temporary places. Constantly on his feet, ready to leave into the next scene. There wasn't a woman out there that could possibly keep up with him - not one he could spare much attention and time for.

Not unless...

He shook off these thoughts and decided to toy with her, just to keep himself preoccupied until they reached land. "I wouldn't worry about it, anyway, because he's mad at you."

She started, thinking she had misstepped somewhere in her introduction. "What? Why?"

"'The Executioner' was unique to his battleship. And you took her name."

She began sputtering. He got a kick out of her reaction. "How was I supposed to * know* that!? I've only been in the Armada for–"

He perked up. She paused before crossing her arms. "Nice try, espía."

He sighed through his nose, a smile tugging at his hidden lips. The sound of the waves hitting the boat became hypnotizing after some time. He hadn't realized he'd been spacing out until Dea's voice snapped him out of it.

"It would be stupid to assume the Elite don't know each other. You all work together, don't you?"

"Yes." He leaned on the wheel. "But we usually don't meet face-to-face on duty like that."

"-Then how do you all keep in touch..?"

He lifted up his sleeve to reveal the communicator on his wrist. "With these."

"Oh!" She marveled at it. He promptly moved it out of her sight. "The technology in Valencia amazes me..."

He was going to speak more, but had his focus shift as they reached the familiar mountains of Cool Ranch. He moved to take the indirect route in order to avoid early detection. He'd use this time to calmly spell out their objective to his companion.