Donovan Morgan, Captain of the Skyspear, stood back as he watched the feeds, quietly loading his shotgun and prepping his armor. In front of him, Soap sat in the sensorium chair, his eyes flicking about as he collated the various feeds, communicating with the ketch's sniper team. They could both hear the flurry of activity going on, until the single blast of a Golden Sniper round went off, bringing everything to silence.
Morgan leaned forward. "What's happening, Soap?"
The younger Titan raised a finger to him, requesting momentary silence, his other hand lifting to his ear. After a moment longer, a voice came through. "Control, this is Longshot Actual," Rega-7 reported. "Jackpot. Repeat: Jackpot. Tango One is down."
Soap glanced at one of the feeds, then pointed it out to Morgan, where they could see a sprawled Fallen body, its neck ending in a smoldering ruin. Morgan bumped his fist against Soap's shoulder, murmuring, "Damn fine shooting. Have them maintain overwatch. I'll take in our ground team to sweep the lair. You keep an eye on things here, Soap."
Soap relayed orders to the Longshot team as Morgan stepped away to join the ground team. Revenant-19 was frowning at the other two members of the team, and it soon became clear why. Eliksni and Cabal glowered at one another. Bokta Tren had his two reaver's swords drawn in a ready stance, the larger sword pointed forward, nearly touching the point of the cleaver held by Maal'kemat, the gladiatrix from the ketch's Cabal contingent. She bared her teeth and lowered her jaw, as if leveling her tusks for a goring attack.
Morgan stepped up with a louder tread than necessary, the thump of his boots breaking the staredown between the two. "Is there going to be a problem here?"
Tren flicked a pair of eyes toward him, then back to Malka, who let her other arm, which had been poised with her other cleaver for a roundhouse chop, fall to her side. "No problem, Captain," she grunted, a sentiment echoed by the Eliksni.
The Titan glowered at them. "What's the rule?"
Now Tren eased up, and the two took a step back from one another. "One ship, one crew," the pair chorused, lowering their weapons completely.
"If you two want to establish primacy, do it after we're finished here," Morgan ordered them. "I'll clear the fight deck for you, you can get it out of your system, and then I'll even stand you your first two drinks at the Ether Tank."
Tren grunted, sheathing his swords. "Aye, Captain." Malka followed suit. Morgan glanced to Revenant, who rolled his eyes before fastening on his Stag helmet. The team went to the transmat pad, in an adjoining chamber to the bridge. As he walked in, however, he saw a familiar purple-skinned figure waiting for them, and sighed. "Wahei, what do you think you're doing?"
