NBA Dramatique, Prelude 24

"Alright, listen guys." The Brothers stood at the forecastle of the ship and addressed the men assembled on deck. "We're going to keep this short and to the point, because there's not much sense in doing anything else. All we want to do is make you guys rich and, in turn, make ourselves richer. We all know that capturing the Prize from the Bastion would unlock incredible wealth for all of us. We just don't see it happening, guys. Not this time."

The men in the crew gave a disappointed but knowing grunt of aggravation.

"Damn it. We're just going to float around again?" Mikki asked.

"What do you want to do, Mikki?" asked Brother 1. "Yeah, we're going to float around. We wanted a new base, we didn't have the money. We wanted to move south, we couldn't move. We made some bad choices with personnel. We made some bad choices in weaponry. Hell, I don't even know why we thought this boat would be a good idea! There's no other sea-bound army fighting for the Prize! Whoever we attack, they're gonna see us coming. Either they'll fire at us from land or they'll bomb us from the air. We've got some improvements to make and we just don't have any money to make them right now."

"You don't have any money? Really?" said Babyface, sarcastically.

Bobby spoke up from the back of the crew. "Listen, fellas. I'm older than a lot of you and I've seen good times with this outfit. Things are gonna be hard at sea, but you guys are a good, tough crew. Sweat it out together and we'll get better!"

The young guys on the deck nodded begrudgingly. They pretty much had to go along with what they were told - there was nothing nearby to which they could swim.

Brother 2 began handing out new uniforms. "Listen guys. Just do your best. That's all we ask of you. Put on your red shirts and fight as hard as you can when you hit the beach."

"Uh, Brother?" Brad spoke up. "These shirts are purple. Not red."

"Oh, uh, yeah. I know. Redshirts. It's a figure of speech. Ignore me."