It had been a while since Feston had last seen Saar. That part wasn’t unusual- the captain disappeared to do pirately actions fairly often- but he usually found the time to call in and say hi.
And it’s not like Feston knew where he was; Saar had left in the middle of their “Feston do not call it a sleepover we are not larvae” sleepover with no indication of where he was going or when he’d be back.
So, maybe Feston was a little worried. And maybe he had taken to stress baking. And maybe, perhaps, he had called Serena a “liar and a fraud, I can’t believe I hang out with you this is slander, how dare you” when she had called him out about it.
He had immediately gone back to making an Ucroriac Roll for her, though.
PROXY had taken to lightly ribbing him in between reminders that the Captain was most likely okay, just laying low. He was a pirate, after all.
And the laying low part made sense; Saar had taken a call while painting Feston’s nails and seemed pretty shaken up by the end of it. The Captain had capped the bottle with two of Feston’s nails still unpainted and said something about Skinner being up Schitt Creek (whatever that meant) before running off.
Knowing Skinner, the two were probably on the run from law enforcement or taking on an old enemy that Saar’s crew had wronged at some point. In either case, stopping to call a friend would not be the first thing on the Captain’s mind. Feston had told PROXY to keep the comms open just in case, though.
Speaking (or rather, thinking) of comms, PROXY jolted Feston from his thoughts by informing him of an incoming call from an unknown caller.
Feston quickly picked up. “Uh, Hello? You’ve reached Feston Pyxis?”
“Feston!” It was Saar, and he sounded panicked. “I need a rather large favor. How fast do your bay doors close?”
“Good. I am going to need to lose my friend here, can you open them now?”
Feston looked up at PROXY’s monitor. “Sure. PROX?”
“Done. Two Cruise brand Police Cruisers have warped into our vicinity, rapidly approaching. Only one is inhabited.” The doors closed and there was a loud crunch.
“Unfortunately, the auto-piloted vessel seems to have crashed against the hull. No breaches detected, and due to the size of the ships, only minimal damage to the outside.” PROXY did Not sound happy, but Feston quickly shut off the oven’s eye and raced to the bay (patting PROXY’s monitor on the way) where Serena was likely already giving Saar hell.
“- WHAT THE KAK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING, YOU IDIOT?! YOU COULD HAVE KILLED YOURSELF! YOU COULD HAVE KILLED US! DID YOU EVEN THINK-” It seems that Serena was already mid-lecture, showing care for the Captain that she would later deny having.
Feston interrupted her by taking a running leap into Saar’s arms, almost knocking him to the floor. He hugged the Captain tightly for a while before realizing that the Captain was not hugging back.
“Uh, Saar?” Feston stepped back and inspected his friend. He was wearing a prison jumpsuit and none of his characteristic snark. “You okay, buddy?”
His buddy, of course, was not. He didn’t look at all beaten up, but his unresponsiveness and the absence of Skinner pointed towards a not-so-successful rescue attempt.
Saar always got like this when something happened to a member of his crew. Feston laid his hand on the Captain’s shoulder gently and led him out of the bay and into the common room, sitting him on the couch.
A couple blankets (courtesy of Serena) and a warm cup of tea (courtesy of Feston) later, and the Captain looked fairly calmed down.
Serena paced for a bit (Saar’s eyes followed her) before she stopped and took a deep breath. “Okay. First thing’s first, were you followed, aside from our roadkill buddy out there?”
Saar shook his head no. Serena nodded to herself and took on a gentler tone: “Were you hurt in any way?”
Another no. There was a pause before Serena asked, “Is Skinner hurt?”
Saar froze before opening his mouth. ”I do not know.”
“Has she been arrested or captured?”
“Arrested.” Saar took another sip of his tea and breathed slowly. “We both were. She was caught during our escape.”
“That... sucks.” Serena awkwardly patted Saar’s shoulder before turning to Feston for help dealing with crisis management.
“Uh,” Feston gently sat down next to Saar on the couch and turned so that he could see the Captain with both eyes. “How likely is it that we can get her out?”
“Not very. Intergalactic police will be looking for me and my crew.”
That was bad. If they had warrants out for Saar, he wouldn’t be able to leave his own metaphorical driveway, much less sneak back into whatever prison he’d just escaped.
He needed someone who wasn’t a part of his crew to help Skinner. Someone with a QCS25 and a super badass bodyguard-slash-friend.
“What if it was just us?”