She looks furtively around and whispers back:
"I don't know, not exactly. I was press ganged just like you three weeks ago, most of the crew was except for the officers. There must have been a severe battle or some kind of disaster for so many people to have died or gone. Master Scourge and Mr. Plugg are as mean as they come. There is no chance they'll ever be more than a bunch of violent sadists. They'll probably keep on press ganging people, discreetly weeding away anyone they don't like, who is to smart or charismatic to be a threat to them.
I rebuked quite sternly the advances of Plugg a day ago. That might have reduced my time on the mortal plane somewhat. But as long as they haven't gotten spares we are relatively save. Until then we have to find a solution if you know what I mean. I am sworn to certain codes - foremost I am not allowed to lead a mutiny."
She looked around again:
"We can talk later after the bloody hour. For now go to Ambrose and get cooking. If you are in luck, old Fishguts is sober enough to actually work today."