Mordecai put his boot on the small keg. "It doesn't look like 'nothing,' Jane. Out with it."
She looked up at Mordecai with a glower. Taking his tone for a challenge, she stood up straight and faced him. "Fine then. I don't like this. And you can take that straight to her ladyship. She wants to drop a lit keg on those lizard-devils outside...what's next? Assaulting them outright? And for what?" She gestured at the rest of the hold. "We've already got the treasure! We've already got our ship back!" Reaver Jane shook her head. "I'll do as ordered. I'm no scrub. But I think this is madness. Someone needs to make her sit up and notice, but all she can see is Fengel down in the city below. And I don't care if you tell her that, sir."
Mordecai smiled wryly. "You know very well that I recently did just that." He pulled back his boot and turned for the stair up from the hold. "You should know that Konrad intends to call a Crewman's Vote. He doesn't really mean it, but he thinks that's what it'll take to make Natasha see the light." He glanced back to see Jane and Hans staring at him in surprise. "And I have no intention of stopping him," he said. Then he turned and climbed back up the stair.
And so he moved down his list. He sought out the Wiley twins, Berringer, Lazy Tom, and others with pull among the crew. All had grievances of some sort; pirates always did. But, perhaps surprisingly, all were still mostly loyal. They pounced on the idea of a Crewman's Vote when he brought it up. Some meant it, most just wanted their captain to take notice. Mordecai kept himself strictly impassive, seemingly impartial. He let them know that he was irritated as well, and would let the Vote happen, but not what he thought of it. Lastly, he sought out Guye Farrel.
The beleaguered crewman was amidships, coiling rope. He mumbled and muttered in irritation to himself, staying as much under the shadow of the gas-bag as he could. Mordecai moved quietly up, and then waited to be noticed.
Farrel paused when he caught a glimpse of the first mate, then, slowly, he stood, ready and at attention. Mordecai noted the barely concealed hate that the man had for him. He would have been irritated not to see it; he'd worked hard to put it there, after all.
"Sir?" asked Farrel.
Mordecai let a bit of unaccustomed warmth into his voice. "This voyage hasn't been what you'd thought it would be, has it Farrel?"
The other man looked at him warily. Farrel seemed uncertain how to answer. "No," he said after a moment.
Mordecai turned aside. He paced slowly around the pirate. "No, it hasn't, has it? I know better. But I can imagine what you thought when you approached Natasha. Let me see." He held up his hands theatrically. "A gorgeous and ruthless pirate captain, heir to Pirate King himself. And she was no mere ocean-going scallywag at that, but a sky-pirate, mistress of one of the wondrous Brotherhood airships. You, being a young and dashing man, capable with both pistol and blade, would make an excellent addition to her crew. From there you would carve yourself glory and renown, win the heart of the gorgeous pirate princess, and even take up the role of captain once all saw your able skill and expertise. Yes?"
Farrel looked sullen, and did not reply.
"But, obviously, you know now that real life doesn't work like a penny paper. I imagine that you started to realize that the moment she shot you." He stopped, faced Farrel, and met his gaze. "Answer me."
"Yes," said the pirate, voice small.
"Since then, you've been beaten, stabbed, bruised, bit, bashed, and treated to the same drudgery that occurs on an ocean-going ship, just at a different altitude. And now, because your gorgeous captain is crazy, you're going to meet some improbable doom in some alien city, trapped on a jungle continent where you couldn't hope to survive."
Farrel nodded slowly.
Mordecai stepped closer and leaned in. "Well. It appears I've got some good news for you. You can't have everything you wanted. But you can have a little bit of it, and maybe save your life in the process. Look there."
Mordecai jerked his head back down near the helm. All the crew he'd spoken with were gathered near Konrad. They talked excitedly amongst themselves, working up their courage and nerve. It wouldn't be long before Natasha noticed.
"You aren't alone. This whole trip has been one mess after another. The crew have decided to call a Crewman's Vote. You know what that is?"
Farrel nodded, surprise clear on his marred face.
"Though we disagree, I am loyal to my captain. I only inform you of all this because you have a right to know. Someone needs to bring the Vote to the captain, and none of that lot have the sand for it." He snorted. "Cowards. Still, if you want a better lot, and a bit of that glory you imagined, now's the time for it. Things don't work like that in real life, s'true, but sometimes they get close, you follow? Sometimes opportunities arise to lift you up, but only if you've got the gumption for it."