Flight day 1
Soldier 1: Takeoff!
The goldfish roared to life, like a magestic... vulture with it's claw still stuck in a skull, in the most anti-climatic way possible. Stuttering engines, and gas suddenly popping out of the ship caused a handful of chuckles throughout the dock at the ship. However, unnoticed by any bystanders was the functionality of the ship, still turning around at full speed and already rising above nearby warehouses. By the time people managed to stop laughing, the ship had already sheepishly left port. To RedRoach, whatever plan that the leader of this ship had clearly had the opinion that surprise was a hellofalot better than stealth. The flight towards their destination of an unknown place, where apparently some people were hiding out. But until then, it was time to start the fun.
The first, and probabbly most important thing to come first when one goes on a voyage, is to learn the names of all the people you have to tolerate until the ship finally docks somewhere you can be rid of your fellow crewmates and their obsession with fried pig skin. The soldiers all happened to be on break right after the most marvelous takeoff, and were chatting with small bottles of liquor in their hands.
RedRoach: "Hey, since I'll have to live on this ship for the entirety of... how long until we get there?"
Soldier 2: "Give or take about 3 days there and another 3 back."
RedRoach: "Well, since I'll have to live on this ship for the entirety of 6 days, I might as well know your names so I can yell at you if I need to get an order. You mind tossing out names?"
Soldier 3: "Do names really matter on this ship? Clearly you don't give a damn to be here and you just want the payment. Why so talkative?"
Soldier 2: "I, for one, don't wanna be called *hic* sir all the damn way an' to hell with ranks. M' name's Cris."
Soldier 3: *smirk* "The idiot of the triangle, the one who drinks the night away in all of three boxes of moonshine."
Soldier 1: "However, I respect authority and order on this ship. Refer to me by title, which for this particular excursion will be Captain."
Soldier 3: "And since now everyone's decided name giving was a greeeaaat idea to do to the completely disposable merc, might as well throw mine into the pot. You can call me Giraan."
Soldier 2 "Lighten up man, *hic* you should really just try sleepin' it off next time."
RedRoach: "Well.. Captain, I'll do just as Cris said and nod off to bed. I won't have much to do today, and hell, after leaving port we shouldn't have much of an issue for the next hours."
Captain: "A good idea for now. We'll send the repair crew to rouse you should an emergency arise."
The scavenger left that conversation with more info in mind. The Captain loved order, so pissing him off with failures should lead to hilarious reactions. Cris is going to be one hell of a slacker, giving a bit more leeway in deferring attention. But then, this Giraan guy looked like a total prick. All the more reason to slide a nice glass jar of grease in his pillow. Taking a small staircase in the center of the goldfish straight into the hull, he busied himself with peeking into all the ammo crates for the ship. The standard was there, a bunch of rockets and fuel, a few boxes labeled Heavy and Greased, and the one box of Lochnagar rockets that some idiot decides to pack because who the hell doesn't want to play with a Loch weapon nowadays. More opportunities arising at every step. Time to set the first prank in action here and now.
Carefully, RedRoach pulled out a small knife from inside his pockets. Although it was curved, and quite sharp, the user kept on insisting that it be called just the butter knife. Using the butter knife, Red popped the lid of the crate marked Lochnagar and pulled out a single hwacha rocket. With the butter knife again he carved open the rocket, making sure to dismantle the entire thing down to basic components such as blasting caps and thin round metal coverings, and most importantly, lochnagar powder itself, and putting it all away inside his jacket. Quickly and quietly, the top of the lochnagar crate was put back, and the scavenger quietly sneaked back onto the bridge of the ship. He quietly took a small bottle from a lying box of moonshine, and slipped in a small amount of Lochnagar powder. At least, Cris would pass out and nobody would be the wiser, at best, the captain would freeze up like a stick and fall flat on his face after a swing of this drink. Taking the now mixed bottle, the scavenger walked back into the hull, and into a crudely constructed cabin for the crew. Sealing the bottle, he quietly hid the bottle on the top of the door, leaving it a little bit open. There was no way in hell someone could miss the bottle now. Seeing as how the sun would be falling soon, RedRoach decided to sleep the rest of the day off.
------- Later that Night... -------
A soldier walks into the room. Within the first few seconds of opening the door, he's greeted with a surprise. A bottle drops and bounces off his helmet hard.
Soldier ? : "Ah, for the love of- Goddammit Cris! I swear to the Dusty Mistress if you threw that bottle at me-"
Cris: *calling from above deck* "I don't waste my sweet nectar of life by throwing it to people who don't want it thank you very much!"
Soldier ? : "Great. So someone thinks it's fun to be a powder monkey. Hmm?" *examines bottle* " 'Save for the end of the journey so we can pop it off later,'... Ah hell, it's Cris's. Payback time!"
The soldier snaps off the top of the bottle, swirls it around in his hand, and chugs away at the bottle, expecting Cris to be pissed that his bottle is wasted. After downing all the moonshine, he pulls the bottle from his lips.
Soldier ? : *gradually slowing speech* "Ah, that was strong. Veerrrryy strong. I can see why.. why Cris wanted to save this... this for later... um..."
*THUD!!*
Cris: "Giraan? If you fell asleep on the floor again, then I'm not picking you up and putting you away. You understand?" *sigh*
