“I think this is the last of the supplies Jay,” said Rick to his friend as he carried a large plastic crate into the cargo bay at the back of the mosquito class micro-transport. Two weeks had passed since the Willowbrook Shire had been delivered and she was finally ready for her first voyage into the black. Jason and Rick had spent that time going over the ship cleaning, painting and doing minor repair work where necessary.

“I reckon that’s about it, then,” replied Jason. “You sure that your ready to do this.”

“Ready as I'll ever be." Rick shuddered inwardly. Neither of them had any flight experience, and though he had watched Jason running flight simulations for hours every evening for the last few weeks, Rick had a feeling there was some differences between that and the real thing. "Where are we off to first?”

“First is a short hop over to Evesdown docks to fuel up, and also take on some cargo.”

“Cargo?” asked Rick, “Thought we were just off to look for your sister.”

“That we are,” replied Jason, “but you would be surprised how much coin it takes to fuel and supply a ship like this. Even my funds would run out eventually. Besides, this job’ll be just about perfect to that end.”

Noticing the strange look Jason was getting from his friend he continued, “It’s an alliance mail route, should take us through most of the planets and moons in the system before the end of the year. In the mean time, it’ll cover the cost of fuel and food and such.”

--------------------------------------------

A couple hours later found the small ship settled into a birth at Evesdown dock. Jason was rather proud of himself, his first real flight, and shaky as it had been, no crashing or flames had ensued.

“Hey Jay,” said his friend interrupting him. “Some fellas here ta see ya. That want us ta go with ‘em ta see some guy named Badger.”

“They with the port authority?” asked Jason.

“Don’t think so,” came the reply.

“Then whey should I?”

“I’m thinking because they have guns pointed at us.”

A short while later Jason found himself and his friend being escorted into a shabby tent in the seedy area of town. The place was packed with all manner of items, so much so the entire premises resembled an animal den made in a junk yard; a Badger's den. Jason smiled slightly at his own pun despite the gravity of the situation. He made sure his expression was more sober by the time he was let before a little man dressed in the most hideous parody of a business outfit.

“N’ what a’ we have ‘ere,” said Badger. “Yor’ a new face, ain’t cha?”

“I’m Jason Libby sir, I believed you asked to see me?”

“Right ta business is it? No manner’s I can see in you as well,” quipped the grimy man.

“Being held at gunpoint tends to make a man disposed to forgo frivolity,” replied Jason.

“Very ‘ell then. This ‘ers my dock, n’ you aint paid no rent. What’a ya spose we aught’a do bout that.”

“Oh,” said Jason, realizing the situation with mixed emotions. There was a sense of relief that the man likely only wanted money, and beyond appeasing that, he and Rick were not likely in any real danger. On the other hand, getting rolled on his first day by a lowly thug was not how Jason wanted to start his career as a spacer.

“Suppose there’s a logic to that,” said Jason with a hint of a smile, “and as I’ve not been here more’n a few hours at your lovely establishment, I’m sure it can’t be too much to see us on our merry way.”

“I sees I’ve got a witty one. Well maybe I don’ts rent by ‘e hour. Maybe I rent by ‘e day, or maybe, just for you, by ‘e week if that’s what it takes ta wipe ‘at cocky grin offa yer grinning face!”

“Sorry sir,” said Jason gravely. “I meant no disrespect,” he lied.

Jason tried to sense the other man but found it was futile. Jason was too genuinely unnerved for that part of his mind to work. “I suppose then we should discuss what I owe,” he added simply.

“I suppose we should,” replied a now grinning Badger. “I’ll tell ya what. Since yer new, and since ‘ew seem such a fine fella, I’ll make a special deal.”

Jason regarded Badger with suspicion. This was a strange twist. It was then he realized the other man didn’t seem that genuinely angry, even the guards seemed rather relaxed as if this were a fairly routine shakedown.

“I understand yer next port o call is Londinum,” continued Badger.

“Yes, I’m a mail currier, that is my first, err, next stop on my route,” said Jason, cursing himself for his careless slip of the tongue. Now there was no question that he was new to this game.

“Well, seems yer in luck. I’ve a package ‘at needs deliverin’ there. You deliver it, n’ we're square.”

--------------------------------------------

It had been several days since their encounter with the Little Weasel as they had dubbed him. Jason had been more than a little unsettled by the encounter and not spoken very much during the first few days after they left Persephone. This had concerned Rick a bit. Although he had not enjoyed their encounter with the small time gangster either, he also knew that there were far bigger fish in the ‘Verse, and that they would likely run across them sooner or later. If Jason couldn’t handle Badger, then that did not bode well for their future. Jason, however, had eventually returned to his normal self as if having forgotten the small package hidden in one of their kitchen cabinets. Only time would tell, thought Rick to himself as he fiddled with one of the mailbags in the cargo bay.

“Looks like we’ll be there in less’n an hour,” came Jason’s voice over the comm, “Best get things shipshape and ready for us to break atmo.”

Rick cinched closed the bag he had been poking through in his boredom and headed up the flight of metal stars that led to the common area, which sat between the cargo hold and the cockpit. He better make sure everything in the kitchenette was buttoned down.

“All set Jay,” said Rick twenty minutes later as he came into the cockpit shaking a heavy brown shoebox sized parcel next to his ear. He seated himself in the copilot’s seat.

“Good, you best get buckled in. This is likely to be a bit shaky, bein my first time an all,” Jason looked over at his friend. “Huh, good God Rick, whadaya think you’re you doin’ with that,” indicating the package.

“This one smells kinda good. Was just wondering what was in it, sent all the way from Persephone to… a Miss Claire Watson, of Box 3202, New Whiting? Hmmm.”

“Rick, are you aware that tampering with postal mail is a federal offense?”

“Jus fer lookin in a package? That’s stupid Jay.”

“Yeah, well, it’s the law. Now put that down… now Rick.”

“Fine,” he tossed the box atop the console in front of him.

Just then the radio crackled to life, “Mosquito transport 71624, Willowbrook Shire, do you copy.”

“This is Willow 71624, we copy. What are your instructions for approach?” asked Jason, assuming it was the shipyard control tower.

Both men were shocked by the reply. “This is the patrol ship Valiant. Shutdown your engines and prepare to be boarded.”

“Ta mei duh,” swore Jason, this trip just kept getting better and better. Rick just looked down at the parcel he had been molesting.

Jason needed time to think. “Valient, we are on final approach. Shutting down engines now will cause us to be pulled into the planet’s gravity well. Do you want us to change heading, please clarify; Is there a problem?”

There was a long pause before the patrol boat replied. “Very well, we will escort you to New Whales spaceport,” the voice was less certain now, clearly a younger man. “No problem, routine inspection for contraband.”

Jason’s face went white, “Go sei… Rick, that package that The Weasel gave us. What chance do you think there is that it's”

“Contraband?” completed Rick, also going pale. “I’d say pretty good.”

Jason accidentally jilted the control yoke and the ship shook as it ploughed through the upper atmosphere. He took a deep breath and thought fast.

“Quick, get back there and see if you can get rid of that package. Don’t care what you do with it, just so it ain’t findable when those feds search us.”

“On it,” Rick fumbled to unbuckle his safety harness and head out of cockpit.

“Rick!” the large man turned to look back at his friend. “Best put this back too.” The package he had pinched came flying back at his face.

Rick caught the parcel and ran back into the common area. Pulling Badger’s package from its cupboard under the kitchen counter, he looked around frantically to find some place to ditch it. His first thought was the air lock. No, they were in atmo and opening that right now would be a very bad thing. His next though was the toilet, but breaking whatever it was up would take too much time. Have to hide it, concluded Rick, and just hope for the best.

Rick started for one of the hatches that led from the common area down to his bunk. He stumbled as the ship once again shook violently under Jason's inexperienced control. He was forced to drop the two parcels he was carrying as he reached out to grab hold of a chair for support. As Rick bent to retrieve them, it was then he noticed they were almost exactly the same size.

“Tamper’n with mail a federal offense huh,” he said to himself. “In for a penny, in for a pound I guess.” He very carefully began pealing the brown paper wrapping from Miss Claire Watson’s package.”

--------------------------------------------

The cargo bay door opened slowly and as soon as it thudded to the ground an imposing looking Alliance officer strode onto the ship. He was soon followed by two subordinates.

“Good morning, Sir,” Jason tried his best to sound professional and confident. To further the image, he had donned the cunning brown coat he had purchase in a second hand store before leaving Persephone.

The officer paused a moment to look Jason over, then sneered, “We’ve reason to believe you're transporting highly illegal goods.” The disgust evident in the officer’s expression seemed odd to Jason, as the man’s gaze continued to linger on him. “And I intend to find it!”

“I’m sure there must be some mistake, sir,” replied Jason. “This ship is simply a contracted mail currier.”

“Really,” the officer opened one of the mailbags and pulled out a handful of letters, all stamped postage paid.

Excuse me,” said one of the lackies a little uncertainly. It was the voice over the radio earlier. “But, um, without a warrant, it’s a felony to tamper with post mail.”

The officer turned his gaze to his subordinate who wilted slightly. The officer finally dropped the letters back into the bag when another fed, this one with a large dog in tow, entered the cargo bay. The dog immediacy sniffed one of the mailbags and sat down next to it, looking up expectantly at its handler. This caused Rick’s face to completely drain of blood. The young man was not paying attention to the animal however. “You request us, Sir!” he addressed the officer.

“Get up there and search this pile of go sei!” The officer gestured up toward to front half of the ship. “These old ships are full of hidden nooks and I want you to find every one.” This was news to both Rick and Jason, who just looked at one another.

“Yes sir!” The man quickly started in the direction his commander had indicated. For a moment, the dog looked between his handler and the mailbag in confusion, but then finally decided to follow his handler.

“Let's go gentlemen,” the officer gestured for Jason and Rick to follow also.

Before following himself, the officer looked back over his shoulder to the two lackies just standing around. “And you two. Make yourselves useful and get this mail on its way to the good people of Londinum.” The two immediate snapped to work.

They had barely entered the common area when, “Found something, sir!” The dog was sitting in front of the cupboard where Badger’s package had been stashed. The officer leaned over and opened the cupboard to reveal a box sitting toward the back.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” As the fed extracted the box and began to open it, Jason glared at Rick. Hadn’t he told him to get rid of it? “What the… fruitcake?” exclaimed the officer. Rick looked over in amazement to find that the box contained nothing more than two large loafs of fruity looking bread. He glanced back at Rick who took a chance and winked back at him.

“Ahh, yes, I see you found my Aunt Claire’s famous fruit cake.” If the officer’s glare could kill, Jason would be dead.

“I guess you found us out," continued Jason. "We always said in my family that her sweets are so good they should be a controlled substance. Your doggie there has some mighty fine taste, I must say.”

“Search the rest of the ship!” The officer barked as he tossed the fruitcakes onto the counter.

--------------------------------------------

Two hours later the feds finally left Jason’s ship. “Phew,” he looked to his friend and indicated toward the common area. “How? Whaa? Fruit cakes!”

Jason's expression turned to a grin as Rick explained how he had swapped the two boxes.

Just then, they heard footsteps once again walking up the metal of the cargo bay door. Jason turned expecting to see the feds. Instead he came face to face with a tall raven haired woman followed by an entourage of men wearing dark suits and black sun glasses. She was dressed in an expensive looking business suit of the latest fashion, complete with supple leather high heeled boots. Her shiny jet-black hair cascaded off her shoulders to the level of her ample bosom. She wore a heavy fur coat that appeared to be made from guanine animal pelts. She would have been quite striking if not for the long and viscous looking scar that ran down the left side of her face. To complete the image, she was smoking a thin cigar held between lips painted so blood red they made her pale skin look almost white.

“Mr. Libby, I presume,” she said with a thick accent that neither could quite place. “My ame is Anistasia. I believe you ave a package for me.”

“Oh,” Jason was speechless for a moment. “It’s good to meet you. About that package there’s a bit of a problem.”

“Problem,” the woman took the cigar from the side of her mouth, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke. “It es not a good way to start a business relationship ith a problem, Mr Libby.”

Jason was puzzled by her coolness. At least she seemed much nicer than that Badger. Without really thinking, he opened his mind and tried to sense her. Almost immediately he recoiled and fear began to grow within him. He had never sensed anyone with such an aura of power. Even now, with his mind closed, he could almost taste electricity in the air.

“Is not good way to continue breathing Mr. Libby, do I have your attention.”

“Completely, Madam.”

“Good, my cargo, it es not on your ship I take it,” she cut to the matter at hand, clearly impatient.

“No,” but before Jason could say another word she continued.

“I saw ze officers earlier. Zey did not arrest you. Clearly zey did not find et then.”

“No.”

“Then clearly et es no longer on your ship, you must ave dumped ze cargo then.” Before Jason could replay she cut him off. “I saw ze dog Mister Libby, I am not stupid. My cargo es gone… My ery expensive cargo. More expensive zan your ship, Mister Libby.” Her voice was now slightly raised. “Now we must determine how you will repay me.”

She stepped toward Jason and spoke quietly, “I see only one way for you to replay me.” Her hand flashed from under her luxurious coat and before he knew it, Jason was staring down the barrel of a semiautomatic pistol.

“Boys,” she barked.

The two men standing behind her quickly stepped forward. One quickly pinned Jason’s arms behind his back, the other ruthlessly slugging him in the solar plexis. A third quickly restrained Rick before the big man could react.

“I am sorry Mister Libby, this es just business.”

“Wait!” cried Rick before the man could hit him again.

The woman raised her hand, the cigar between two thin fingers, perhaps on a whim deciding on one last act of compassion, before meeting out the inevitable fate of the man before her.

“You ave one reason for me not to do zis?” she questioned with half a grin on her face that twisted the viscous scar on her face.

“I… just… need,” Jason paused to breath, “to retrieve your cargo.” He panted to recover from the blow. “I assume you would prefer it… to my blood.”

The woman raised a single eyebrow. “And why should I believe you?”

“Just trust me, I can get it back,” Jason looked her in the eyes.

“Trust? Trust es something earned, Mister Libby. You ave earned no trust today. You ave no good reputation. You have less, you ave bad reputation,” she glared at him, but Jason could tell she was considering it; not through any special sense, just normal human intuition.

“Take a chance then,” he grinned. “You have my ship. I can’t very well run off.”

“A chance Mister Libby, I see you are a daring man to suggest that to me. Demitri, your gun.”

Jason and Rick felt a mixture of puzzlement and fear as one of the men handed over a large revolver to the woman. She opened the cylinder, the rounds falling into the palm of her hand. Pocketing all but one, she placed that one round of ammunition back into the firearm. Jason became even more afraid as he realized what she was about to do.

The ‘click’ was deafening inside the silent cargo bay as she closed the cylinder; then came a low whirring as she spun the mechanism. There was utter silence as she raised the revolver to Jason’s forehead, and her thumb pulled down the hammer. Another click came, as the hammer latched into the cocked position.

And then, a pause

“SNAP!”

“Jason’s breath caught in his throat. He looked from the woman to Rick and back again, not quite believing that he was still among the living.

The woman lowered the gun. “Very well, Mister Libby,” she began to fully reload the weapon before returning it to its owner. “I shall take ‘a chance,” on you.” She puffed on her cigar, then turned and strode out of the cargo bay.

--------------------------------------------

Jason and Rick walked down the sidewalk of a busy street, both still visibly shaken. Jason breathed deep before speaking. “Here it is, Alliance Post Office, New Whiting Branch.”

“We really gonna rob the place?” asked Rick.

“Got a better idea?”

“Could run.”

Could,” Jason had considered this option. He would loose the ship, but might live a while longer. There was even a chance they could get off the planet before Anastasia found them. “Rick, I won’t make you do this. You wanna run, I won’t stop you. But I’m in this for a reason, and loosing the ship’ll pretty much put an end to that, as even I don’t have enough coin to buy and outfit another.”

“Yer sis mean that much ta ya.”

“Like I said. Only family I got left.”

Jason felt the cold metal of the weapon in his pocket as his friend looked him in the eyes. They had quickly acquired some handguns from a seedy looking fellow at the docks. It had been a huge risk and Jason had been surprised they hadn’t been pinched. As it was, the guns were obviously of low quality. They were not the sort of thing Jason wanted to relay on, but it was the best they had. He made a mental note to rectify that if they survived this.

“They got cameras in there.”

“Take this.” Jason handed him a memory stick. “We’ll go in separately. You first. You take that and insert it into the public cortex terminal. It’s a virus that’ll wreak havoc with everything in the building, cludin’ the cameras.”

“Were’d?” Rick began to ask.

“Old friend from school,” said Jason curtly. “Long story, not for tellin’ now.”

“Here’s the plan, I go in, and walk up to the desk. Gonna try to sweet talk my way first. That don’t work, then, well, we do what we gotta.”

“Oh, I do not feel good about this, Jay.”

“Look at it this way. It’s either Alliance prison, or that crazy broad.”

Rick considered this. “Lets do it.”

--------------------------------------------

Claire Watson hummed to herself as she walked down the street toward the post office. If her guess was right, her Auntie's fruit cakes would have arrived today. She sent them every year just before Unification Day. She wondered briefly if she should hail a cab; her high heals were killing her. Too late now, it was only a couple blocks more.

--------------------------------------------

Jason walked up to the counter of the post office to be greeted by a pimply faced and rumpled looking young woman.

“Hello,” she smiled at the handsome stranger, brushing a tangle of light brown hair out of her face. “Can I help you?”

Jason tried to force the fear from his mind. Surprised for once that it worked, he opened that special part of his mind and sensed her.

She was insecure. Not surprising in this day and age. Many young women who fell short of the unattainable standard the media relentlessly hammered the public with tended to be that way. It was a shame, really, as this one had potential to be quite pretty, in her own way. Something else, she seemed uncertain of something; what to do. She was new to the job he realized. He could work with this.

“Well hello there,” he smiled back. “And what might your name be.”

“I’m Sarahh, sir,” it was on her name tag, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“Well Sarah, no need to sir me, I’m Atherton.” It was the first name to pop into his head. “I don’t look old enough to be sir’d do I?”

She giggled, “Suppose not. What can I do for you Atherton?” He sensed her gain confidence in response to his self deprecation.

“Well, you could go to dinner with me and show me round this shiny town, but Ill settle for you getting a package for me.”

The girl laughed outright and Jason felt her heart skip a beat at the outright flirting, even if it was only in jest. “You are a bad man!” she grinned. “That could be considered sexual harassment you know.” She paused a moment. “Or worse, I could take you up on it.”

“Not at all my dear Sarah, I am a stranger in a strange land, as it where. I just arrived today; a friend to show me around would be most welcome.” Jason used his most proper English. His mother would have been proud.

“Really?”

“Really, my dear."

--------------------------------------------

Claire pressed the button for the cross walk. As she waited, she looked expectantly across the street at the post office.

--------------------------------------------

"When do you get off work?" asked Jason. "If that is, I can be so forward without risking your aforementioned sexual harassment.”

“Office closes at five. There’s a diner across the street I usually grab a bite to eat at. You can find me there,” she said. Loosing some of her confidence she glanced down at her hands, “if’n your serious, that is.”

“Hmmm, five o’clock. I have a sudden suspicion I shall have a sudden hunger pain then.”

The woman was almost beaming when she looked up at him.

“Shiny,” she grinned. “Oh, you mentioned a package.”

“Ah yes, I almost forgot. My mum mailed a fruitcake to my sister Claire. I’m visiting with her, you see. Anyway, I wouldn’t want to get you into trouble but I would so like to deliver it in person.”

She looked a little uncertain. “I dunno. Well, I’ll tell ya what. If you can tell me the From and To address I guess I could let it go.”

“Of course, it's to Claire Watson, of New Whiting, from my mother on Persephone.” This is where it could go sideways real fast thought Jason. Neither he nor Rick could remember anything else other than that about the package.

“Hmmm,” the girl looked under her counter, then back up into his eyes. ”Would your mother be Leslie Reed.”

Jason fought to keep up the façade, despite the fact that he was sure his shirt was soaked through with sweat. “That would be her,” he chanced.

The young woman stood up, putting her hands on her hips and regarding him seriously. “What if I said I didn’t believe you,” she said slowly.

“Suppose Claire will just have to come and pick it up herself,” he grinned, giving her his best smile, while fingering again the cold metal in his coat pocket. He was humped.

--------------------------------------------

Claire walked quickly across the street as soon as the light changed. She could almost taste the fruit cake now.

--------------------------------------------

The girl broke into a grin. “Just joshin’ ya Ath. Here ya go.” She quickly reached under the table and pulled up the box and set it in front of him. “Though it looks a little worse for the wear,” she said with a frown as she regarded the package with its rumpled wrapping.

“Nonsense. Nothing breakable so no harm,” Jason was barely able to contain his relief. “So do I get a kiss?” he grinned.

The girl made an act of looking scandalized. “You git now. I got work ta do.” Then she added, “Maybe later though.”

They smiled at each other and Jason walked out. Unnoticed by the girl, a burly man who had been using the public terminal walked out as well, pausing only to hold the door as a blonde woman walked in.

Rick caught up with his friend once they rounded the corner at the end of the street and were out of sight of the post office. The relief was almost palpable as the two men walked away.

“Gorramit, Jay, I don think I ever saw you sweet talk a lass like that.” Rick was truly impressed. He had been certain bullets would have been flying.

“Yeah, well, I probably just cost her, her job.”

“Better her job, than our lives.”

“Let's just get this to Anistasia.”

"Where do we find her?"

"Looks like an address for a high rise on the upscale side of town," answered Jason, looking at the business card one of Anastasia's men had wordlessly handed him.

--------------------------------------------

Anastasia regarded the two men as they were ushered into her office. They had surprised her. Despite what she had said to Jason Libby earlier that day, she had been expecting to have to hunt them down. She had learned from experience that people worth trusting were few and far between. She was even more surprised when he walked straight up to her desk and deposited a strangely marked package onto her desk.

“Madam,” he addressed her with apprehension. “Your package”

“This es addressed to a Claire Watson,” she remarked dryly.

“It’s a long story.”

“I am sure, Mister Libby.” She began opening the package carefully. When she lifted the cover on the box, it revealed two large bags of what appeared to be white powder. Each was the size of a loaf of bread. Carefully opening one, she tasted the very smallest amount with the tip of her little finger's nail.

“Mister Libby,” she looked up slowly to regard him. “You ave done well. I am impressed.”

The relief was visible on the faces of both men.

“Not your execution, mind you, that was clumsy.” she continued. “This afternoon, you see, I did not know you. I only know my package es missing. So I hold your feet to fire, Mister Libby; hold you over volcano, as is expression. I would be sorry, but it needed to be done, to see who you truly are. Most men would have run, but you did not. That is what impressed me.”

“Thank you,” replied Jason, “I think.”

“Give me your gun.”

“Excuse me,” Jason was becoming nervous again.

“Your gun; the one you bought this afternoon. You think I do not know these things. You too, she said to Rick.”

“You had us followed,” said Jason, realization dawning as he reluctantly handed over his firearm.

Anastasia regarded the two weapons before her. “These will get you killed.” She opened her desk and withdrew two semiautomatic pistols, handing one to each man.

“What’s this,” asked Jason.

“9mm Tokerev,” Anastasia gave him one of her half smiles, “Product of superior Russian engineering. Es gift, from me to you. As welcome to our nefarious underworld.”

“I don’t really understand,” Jason was at a loss for words.

“Jason, I think I can call you that now, yes? And please call me Anastasia; Madam sounds much too like whorehouse owner. I do not traffic whores.”

“You are a luck man today. You were lucky with that alliance inspection this morning. They were not competent to feed dog, much less find drugs with one. Then, you were very lucky with me. I was feeling… unusually forgiving. And finally you were lucky once again at post office with homely girl.”

“My lucky day, I guess,” Jason’s smile was forced.

“Indeed. However, you know nothing about this new world you are in. Do not deny it; clearly you are new to this.” Jason said nothing and she continued. “Luck runs out Jason. Soon you will be needing more than that.”

Pulling a large armored glove from her desk and fitting it on her right hand she picked up the shoddy pistol that Jason had given her. Pointing it at the wall she pulled the trigger.

The gun exploded, sort of. The slide broke off and hit the ceiling as several other smaller parts flew off to land littering the floor.

“You now have reputation Jason. Small reputation, but good, on way to being solid maybe even one day. It would be shame for you to die before your time,” she dropped the ruined firearm into a trashcan.

“With this, I believe our business is concluded. Here.” She tossed him a small cloth bag, filled with something that jingled.

“What’s this?”

“Why it es second half of your payment, of course. You do wish to be paid no?”

“But Badger….”

The woman threw back her head and laughed. “As I said Jason, you ave very much to learn.”

A somewhat bewildered but nonetheless very relieved Jason and Rick were then escorted from the building.

TO BE CONTINUED

--------------------------------------------

Author's Notes: Thanks to MerryK for the positive feedback. It went a ways to encouraging me.

Still thinking about next chapter. There will definently be a clue to the wereabouts of Jason's sister, but will it turn out to be a red herring? Even I'm not sure yet.

Feedback welcome,

P.S. The 'Verse ain't mine, just playing with it a bit.