A Defiant 'Verse - In Character by Defiant2thelast

Ships lined up along the sky-plex’s odd dockyard, with viewports allowing enough view to see what kind each was. Activity at their various airlocks told stories to anyone paying attention. Shade eyed one loading cargo, the two men arguing over each crate giving her pause. Not in the mood for that... The next ship was closed up tight, a man in a long coat doing... something... nearby. Shade skipped over him, seeing the small device in his hand. Something about hand held games that kind of ruin the bad-ass look....

The next ship was a firefly. Shade really only knew that because she’d flown on one before, but they were pretty easy to spot anyway. Defiant. Nice name. Shade smiled, maybe they’d forgive her own defiant tendencies, with a name like that. Wouldn’t that be nice? Maybe not – could spell boring too. The ramp was down, the inner airlock door closed. Didn’t look like they were leaving yet, but no sign of cargo or passengers out front could mean they would be soon.

The next ship was open, a large, fat man standing near the ramp, lounging against the airlock door. She didn’t know what kind of ship it was, but it was certainly ugly. She sniffed a little, eyes flickering back to the firefly. Sweet little ride, that one. Plus, Oreck had been on the last one. Shade had liked Oreck, a LOT. Back to the ugly ship, eyes narrowing at the fat man, now currently scratching his stomach under his shirt. Her lips tightened, pulling slightly down to the left in a pout, following her thoughts as they bounced around from ship to ship.

Well... he was just standing there, waiting for... whatever. There were other ships, but she had to start somewhere. He certainly looked like the type to need a little brute force once in a while – and fat enough to look like he’d rather have someone else to provide it for him. Question was, would he pay for it?

She slipped back into the crowd, dodging a woman with four bickering children, and a man with a monkey on his shoulder. That one turned her head... where do you get a monkey in a place like this? Turning back with slightly raised eyebrows, she almost automatically snagged the kid that was darting through the crowd. Both hands were fisted, and he wore that look between terrified and too jaded to care that marked a not yet accomplished pickpocket. She frowned down at him, looked at the back of a tall backpack, disappearing through the crowd. She looked down again, sighing deeply.

Kid couldn’t have been more than twelve. Skinny. Underfed. Terrified now that she was slanting those dangerous, fiery brown eyes down at him in a speculative manner. She finally made a disgusted face, and casually pried his hands open, taking the small items he was clutching. Talk about a crime of opportunity. She looked at him again, and she couldn’t help the little inner giggle. He’s gonna wet his drawers at this rate.... “Lesson learned?” she finally asked, in a low, dangerous voice.

He nodded rapidly, and she let him go, he gave her a respectful, split second smirk, “Don’t get caught!” and the crowd swallowed him. Shade grinned a little, one edge of her mouth in the shadow of her hat rising. Looking back over the crowd, she returned to her former scowl. Backpack was gone. Swearing under her breath, she stashed it. If she found him, she’d give him his things – if not, luck of the ‘Verse, man: You Got Robbed. Moving on, she found herself drifting along the edge of the docks, overhearing the men arguing over the crate.

“...Lao Chen said if we make it in three, we get first pick – all of us!”

His partner growled back, “Lao Chen’s a yangwei yanse lang! He can’t make any promises...”

She moved beyond them, slowing in front of the firefly, thinking of Oreck with a faint smirk. Man could throw a punch, and was no slouch in a bunk. Best of all, not the faintest idea of romance – no silly sentiment to ruin a good time.. Memories of wild times clouded with alcohol made her downright nostalgic. She shook her head at her own fancies, and moved to pause outside the perimeter of the big ugly ship.

The name was smeared and dirty – ‘W nesd y’ – Wednesday? Different. The man had already noticed her, his nigh-stereotypical leering assessment nearly evoking a response from Shade. She was smart enough to ignore the one that begged her to pick a fight, and tried to shore up the part that wanted to just walk away. She couldn’t help that her eyes flickered to the few other ships she could see from here, and back to the firefly, before she took a stern breath, and stepped forward.

She didn’t have to hail him – he spoke first, “Well, hello there, Honey!” He smiled – leered with tendencies toward friendliness – and added, “Sumpin’ I could help ya wid?”

Shade almost blinked – was he for real? She had no choice but assume he was, and, eyeing his dirty t-shirt, answered him, “Possible I’m looking for work. Provided I find me a captain in need of my services.”

She regretted the phrasing almost as soon as it left her lips, and he didn’t disappoint her sudden dread, “I could think of a way or three ya could service ME, Honey.” He laughed phlegm-ily at his own joke.

Shade closed her eyes slowly, reopened them, and blew a breath out through her nose. “Oh, me too, Mister.” It’d be a service to beat him to death with his own arm, right? “I’ll keep you in mind, Mister. Thanks for the time.” She made her escape, ignoring whatever remark he tossed after her. She couldn’t do it. She wasn’t desperate yet.

She paused for a fraction of a moment, not wanting to stop while still within earshot of the fat man. On to another, or take your chances at the firefly? She felt a little odd going ‘knocking’, but on the other hand, she wasn’t getting a good feel off any of the scenarios she could see. An old man pushing a wheelbarrow piled with bags and boxes nearly ran over her foot, and she pulled back, annoyed at her hesitance, and turned purposefully toward the firefly. Might as well eliminate the near possibility, before moving on the other ships. Had to be someone with space for someone like her. Even if all she did was help move cargo, she was ready to not be HERE anymore.

She approached the ramp, eyeing the panel by the inner airlock door. Last firefly she was on didn’t have a vox unit out here, but it did have a sort of ‘doorbell’ system to alert those inside to a visitor. She placed one booted foot on the ramp, reaching up to adjust her hat a little so she could look up towards the little window in the door. No sign of life; she started up the ramp, already feeling a bit like she was invading the ship, even though she was still outside. She approached the panel, and without hesitation, pressed the button. It occurred to her right after that she was making an assumption, the button could have been required to do anything, but she figured it was a little late now.

She moved away from it slightly, partway down the ramp, and tried not to look too uncomfortable. Nothing made people uncomfortable like wondering why YOU were uncomfortable. Lead to all kinds of suspicion and whatnot. She gnawed her lower lip a little, thinking of the one crate of belongings stored not far from here – her bags, her few assorted spare bits of clothes, and her arsenal. She did the math, and she had enough left on her to pay the storage fee, but she was going to be starting the new job nearly dead broke. She knew she’d put this off a little longer than she should have... She always did.

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Tuesday, June 23, 2009 5:35 PM

Jackie looked at the thick lump of dust on her finger, then hastily wiped it on her thigh as she met Bargara's gaze. "I guess it's been awhile since anybody bunked here. T'sall right, germs helps us make antibodies."

He smiled.

She looked around the small quarters, the thin mattress on the single bed. It wasn't cozy as her cottage, but it was freedom, and that carried a helluva lot more weight.

She was anxious to leave but didn't want to appear too anxious and arouse suspicion.

"I believe I will settle in, like you said, before I see how the infirmary's set for medical supplies and such, but I did want to ask you a couple things."

"Sure. What's on your mind?"

"That other fellow in the kitchen, Dale, I think Bucket called him? He seemed disturbed when I mentioned Three Hills. Is there a problem?"

"And secondly," she continued, looking down at his left leg, "I can likely help you with that limp. Bother you much?"

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Wednesday, June 24, 2009 12:18 PM

Maurie pushed hard to keep up the pace. Staying out on an all-night bender and precious little eating the morning thereafter had sapped his stamina. His breathing had grown loud and husky, and tart bile bubbled up his oesophagus, lapping at the back of his throat. Hmph. What I'd give for a quick nip.

He busied his mind looking back on his prior encounter with Nathan Rey, capitaine du nom. The man had moxie in spades, and an ego to match. His approach had been concise and plain-spoken: he was rounding up a salvage crew, and short a mechanic. Maurie's name had gotten around in a good way; his reference were unanimous in their praise, and the fact that he brought a strong baggage of practical experience to the table to go along with his steady gun hand had him high on Rey's draft board. Moe had taken a liking to the man's spunky drive... And the rest's history. Right.

He craned his neck above the coursing crowd, eyes casting about for a paint-flaked metal sign that read "Docking Bay 49", but his gaze stopped as it beheld a well-acquainted sight through one of the viewports. A strange chimera of a ship, with a vaguely birdlike forepart blurring into a blocky midsection affixed to a bulbous rear end. A firefly. An aught three, complete with its set of extenders, all in all in proud condition. Now ain't that a regal old girl. A smile whisped across his features as he made a line for the ship's airlock. Just as much as Rey's plucky leadership, the prospect of shipping out on one of these grizzled birds was what had drawn him to the job.

He started up the loading ramp, and was surprised to find someone idling around the sealed airlock. An askance eyebrow shot up, as he could tell from her shuffling eyes and tentative demeanor that she had no right place there. "Can I help you?" he grunted, treading up the ramp with stomping footfalls.

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Wednesday, June 24, 2009 2:00 PM

Shade glared at her thumbnail, the ragged edge prompting her to gnaw on it while her eyes flickered back up to the airlock. It hadn’t been more than a minute or two since she pressed the button. Had it even worked? Was she wasting her time? It was frustrating to not even know if it was the right button, and that frustration made her more uneasy than she liked. Made her feel a bit foolish standing out here. Not three minutes from pressing the button, and she was ready to bolt, already. Nuo Fu, she sneered at herself.

Maurie started up the loading ramp, and was surprised to find someone idling around the sealed airlock. An askance eyebrow shot up, as he could tell from her shuffling eyes and tentative demeanor that she had no right place there. "Can I help you?" he grunted, treading up the ramp with stomping footfalls.

Heavy footfalls on the ramp behind her made her turn, eyes narrowed – for a split second – dangerously. That shifted to a faintly speculative look as she nearly growled out a response, only barely shifting from the reflexive troublemaking words to the more appropriate, “Depends. This your ship?” One eyebrow rose a little, slightly challenging. She really didn’t believe a man carrying suitcases and wearing a backpack was the... backpack? Her look shifted even more to the appraising. Did that pack look familiar?

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Wednesday, June 24, 2009 4:17 PM

Lincoln's hand went to his left leg instinctively, he glanced down and then patted his thigh.

"Yeah, been a trouble for awhile now. No one's really been able to do anything for it. I had a good doc in the Core look at it once when I had a chance. Said there wasn't much to do without an operation."

He changed the subject quickly before she could ask any more questions. He didn't like talking about how it happened and sensed she would ask that next.

"Three Hills. It's all over the news nets on the cortex. Huge battle, quite a few wounded and dead on both sides. Captain has a job in mind. I really shouldn't say much more."

He bit his lip, wondering if the woman would realize they intended to loot the battle site of whatever they could carry off. He himself felt a bit of hesitance over such an activity, however he realized that the Alliance would be just as likely to do it. He hated what the Alliance was forcing here, a war. He'd supported the Alliance most of his life, always disliking the politics and bureaucracy of it, but admiring the freedom and protection it provided. They nearly abolished the slave business in the core systems and the border. Something that had prospered for as long as anyone had remembered. They kept crime in check, or at least claimed to. But he'd seen enough atrocities committed in the name of the Alliance and justice to turn his favor towards the Independents. Who in all honesty seemed little better, a mix of everything good and bad humanity could offer. Chaotic and rebellious, many of the worlds were anarchical and crime ridden. Slavery flourished as did trade in drugs and other unsavory merchandise. Yet small pockets of peace and prosperity stood out like oases amidst a desert of chaos. These places were the drive and money behind the Independent movement. A handful of planets were as wealthy as the poorest of the core planets.

"Bargara?" The doctor asked and he realized he was still standing in her doorway.

"I apologize, I was drifting. Should be underway in about an hour or two. Probably serve a meal shortly after that. You are welcome to join us." He nodded politely and excused himself.

Walking towards the stairs he considered cornering the Captain before he briefed the crew to inquire about who he'd lined up as a buyer. If he had anyone yet, at all.

"Big.. big mug."

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Thursday, June 25, 2009 4:26 AM

Dale had watched sharply, with a jumble of reactions to the varied discourse that occurred in the kitchen mess.
Firstly, annoyance as Lincoln didn’t pour him coffee.
It didn’t look like much, but on a boat with only a few humans in meaningful existence, small actions (and inactions) meant things.
Usually the large man was a source of warmth and famility in this cold metal bird, and well, now the rest of the ver-
Dale stopped and restarted his thoughtline.
It was unusual for Linc to rebuff a happy greeting. He was about to shrug it off (after all- he was probably demonstrating dominance for the new passenger) when he nonchalantly shrugged off the fact of the next destination and implied job!
He'd felt momentarily guilty for raising the name to Bucket's attention as he almost broke down at the kitchen table.
Lincoln then seemingly ignored Bucket's state, even grinning a little, magically turning all of Dale’s pity for Bucket and self-guilt into pure anger- directed at Lincoln.
No assistance, reassurance, pity? NOTHING?
Shortly after, Lincoln’s customary kindness surfaced once again, offering to get the captain to do the take off and suggesting some to Bucket he get some sleep, mollifying Dale.
He wondered whether anyone had even noticed any previous irritation.
Bucket didn’t seem to notice even as Dale righted the chair he’d knocked over, nor him wiping up the splashed coffee and the return of his mug to Buck’s rather weak hands.

And of course Lincoln was distracted listening to the newcomer tell her backstory.

Quote:
"I always wanted to take a ride on a Firefly."

An interestingly bad backstory.

Quote:
"My contract was up and I'm a free agent, so to speak. After two years in a backwater, I'm feelin' a mite restless. Need to find myself a bigger pond."

Ok, a reasonably innocuous backstory. Buuut, then again, possibly too innocuous.
She’d tacked off the original line, as if wary it had failed.
A truly innocent idiot-girl would insist that
“they’re so rustic and cute! They look like a brrrd”
And someone who was hiding something minor or just embarrassing would likely admit to it at this ideal early probe and move on.
She was suspicious.
Or...
maybe he was just being crazy. He could always be inventing problems for the “joys” of analysing.
He could be analysing them out of boredom.
He could be analysing the analysis out of the sense of intellectual superiority it elicited, the thought that he casually thought at a third tier level. He could be admitting to this out of a sense of modesty, or because any happiness or superiority was as hollow and deluded as the smugness that accompanied previous thought.
At that point in the continuum there were really endless options
One thing was certain-
Any more thought along this line was purely self indulgent and purposeless.
It didn’t even help, or gratify anyone.
It was self-absorbed, pointless and antisocial.
And it actually hurt his head little.

Time to return to reality and, what was he doing again? Kitchen, of course.
Where had everyone gone?
Hmm.
“Well, I’d best see the cargo bay and the captain”
Dale said to no-one in particular as he headed out of the mess, round and down the stairs to the cat-walk.
Wherever they were headed- he still wanted off this sky-shack.
ASAP.

Ideally with a few extra voices to distract from his internal one.

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Thursday, June 25, 2009 8:36 AM

Moe overlooked the wary edge in her voice, letting the pack slide off his back and propping it against the ship's carbon-streaked hull. His legs, leaden with effort a moment ago, felt numb and springy under him. "In a manner of speaking," he said, cocking his hands on his hips, his chest heaving with every breath. He glanced up and down the length of her, eyes screened behind opaque shades. He knew the hard eyes, harder words and belligerent shoulder chip. She looked the the type to start a fight in a empty room should the mood strike her.

Not many reasons a gal like that shows up here looking all jittery, he thought. Either she's running, or she's looking for work. A frown jerked between his brows. In his experience, people's motives were seldom so clear cut. Or both. He kneeled by his backpack and set about rummaging through the pockets, fingers feeling for the cool touch of his liquor flask. "You sign up with Captain Rey too? That why you're here?" He had a confident notion of what the answer to that would be, however he saw no reason not to inquire a little further, if only for comity's sake.

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Thursday, June 25, 2009 2:47 PM

Shade watched him, the tension easing a little at the simple chance to confront someone and get this over with. She wasn’t exactly famous for her patience. In a manner of speaking... wasn’t the same as yes. Wasn’t no either. His appraisal only gave her a faintly defiant look to her eyes, but she kept her attitude in check for the moment. Her nose twitched, and she’d’ve sworn her spine was itchy. Her shoulders shifted reflexively as his question clarified things a bit. He’s not the captain then... ‘kay... Shade’s mind stood at the depot distracted, while that train of thought left without her. Impatience was making her want to act, not think.

“Might say that’s why I’m here,” she said unhelpfully. “You know where I might find him?” She was almost proud of herself for that answer. Give nothing away, right? She felt downright subterfugical. She jerked a thumb at the airlock, “Ain’t answering the hail thing.” With some creativity, one could almost tell she was indicating the button she’d pressed nearly six minutes ago. Her dark eyes dropped to the pack his hand was buried in, distracted again by the nagging of... something. It made her spine itch again, and she shoved her hands into her pockets to ignore it.

What the guai... She pulled out a small, faded violet velvet pouch. The kid! She unconsciously patted her other pocket, and pulled out a small metal flask. The same pocket the pouch had come from yielded up another small bag, and Shade shook her head. Her eyes darted back to the pack. Can’t be! It’s too... coincidental or whatever! She leaned slightly, looking at the back of the pack – it looked the same....

“You... uh... missing anything outta there, Mister?”

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Friday, June 26, 2009 2:40 AM

Dale leant against the catwalk railing, realising with a large yawn he hadnt yet had coffee.
He sure could use some. At least to keep him running till after take-off and the welcoming brief for whatever new people they'd picked up.
And then for the second brief minus civilians regarding the Three Hills job.
Yup,
He'd be requirin caffeine before then.
A lack of sugar on board was certainly a disappointment.. but then, he had bought something that'd do nicely as a replacement. Hell, it'd do better. Just he'd hoped to save opening it till they were further away from civilisation.
He dropped down the metal stairs, noing the captain and a lady by the left shuttle bay and two strangers by the entrance.
Looked as though they were fillin up quick.
Odd that, after a week or so of no interest shown.
As he passed down out of the hold past the medic bay he wondered if there was any event in the city that was necessitating exodus. Other than the endemic obvious ones.

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Friday, June 26, 2009 4:29 PM

The negotiation was like any other business transaction Nathan had been apart of. Numbers were changed, points were argued and everything remained basically the same as he had laid it out. The customer then usually walked out, presumably to wrap up any business in the port, and would probably be seen in a few hours before they took off.

Ainslie didn’t.

Whatever, she’d paid up for the month anyway, what she did with the shuttle now was her problem. Nathan walked out of the shuttle and made his way into the mess.

Nathan hadn’t realized how long the bartering had actually taken. Yes, he’d expected it, but it always seemed rather off afterwards. Most of the crew had dispersed recently, Nathan observed from the mugs in the sink. He continued making his way to his rack.

Nathan’s room actually spanned two of the forward rooms on the starboard side, and served as his office. Entrance was only possible through the hatch closest to the cockpit, as the other had been welded shut.

Several filing cabinets adorned the wall to his right as Nathan entered. In the middle of the room was his wooden desk, with the usual muddle of papers askew in every direction upon it. Beyond that a curtain obscured view of the rest of his quarters.

Nathan brushed aside the cloth divider that separated his office from his bunk, and reached for the message on the night stand that he’d got from his contact the other day, before slumping into the char behind his desk. The cloth gracefully drifted back into its original position. Nathan read through the message again, and again. He expected Lincoln would come soon.

Lincolnz: I'll have an explosion in my pants pocket when I get a text message now

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Sunday, June 28, 2009 8:44 AM

"Pleasure doing business with you, ma'am," the scrap dealer said.

After all Mei had been through, it was nice to run into someone like that.

She wandered throughout the spaceport. She didn't want to return to the Brownfleet just yet. Maybe she could get a position on a ship here...

Her eyes settled on a Firefly called "DEFIANT". Surely they would have room for someone with her skills. She sauntered over.

But... FOR THE LOVE OF EXPLOSIVES!

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Sunday, June 28, 2009 11:43 AM

Moe huffed out his irritation, his hands rifling—fruitlessly—through masses of sunburned outfits, old, scruffy hardback anthologies and assorted sundries, impatience bulging within like an abscess. Bull! Some thirsty bastard must've nabbed it when I'sn't payin' attention. God this place is FOUL!

Quote:
"You... uh... missing anything outta there, Mister?"

He tilted his head up at her, dull eyes saying 'D'uh, good eye, genius!', until they locked on the decidedly familiar tin flask she held in her hand, at which point his dense brows arched, then snapped together. He pulled his hands away from the disemboweled backpack and stood up, his face a stony and inscrutable mask. "Say, how'd this here item come to be in your possession?" he wordily inquired, a touch of tart amusement in his tone. She hadn't struck him the type to dip her fingers into strangers' pockets.

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Sunday, June 28, 2009 12:29 PM

Shade figured out which item he meant fairly easily, and, pocketing the rest, she held the flask out to him. “Seems some smart pickpocket thought it must be valuable – saw him hit your down near – 94?” She referred to the nearest docking slip to the intersection she’d seen him at. “Think that was it. Was gonna break his pigu, but wasn’t worth the trouble. No fun beating up the defenseless.” She stated it matter of factly, with the faintest note of disappointment. Pickpockets were all too often not worth the trouble – Shade had had to change her standards from size-based to age-based just to reconcile with her own un-acknowledged code of honor. “Was hoping to catch up with ya, but I only saw the pack.” She gestured with the end of the flask, still offering it to him.

She noticed the approach of a young woman, but only in the sense of noticing someone no longer moving with the crowd, but through it, and in this direction. Shade didn’t really pay much attention to it at the moment, her eyes on his face instead.

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Sunday, June 28, 2009 12:51 PM

This wouldn't be easy. Mei had never worked on a ship apart from the Cavanaugh. She had gone through a partial change in crew before. After the Cavanaugh had joined the Independents, a third of the adults and all of the children had left. They - the adults, at least - were replaced by new personnel assigned by command. It had taken a while for everyone to adjust.

But there, Mei was part of the old crew. Now she would be in the position of one of the new crewmembers, having to learn her way around a new ship, meet all her new crewmates, and fit in to an existing crew structure.

There was one other thing to consider. Aboard the Cavanaugh, whether as a civilian salvage boat or a military minelayer, Mei could trust everyone. This would not necessarily be true aboard a Firefly.

She approached the crew outside her ship. By now, her scars were quite visible.

"You hiring?" she asked.

But... FOR THE LOVE OF EXPLOSIVES!

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Sunday, June 28, 2009 8:35 PM

YINYANG

You were busy trying to get yourself lit on fire. It happens.

Back in the shuttle again, Ainsley examined her new home for a while. Sleeping on that cot was hardly a pleasant option, and neither was resting in the piloting chair; she’d have to do something about that, sooner rather than later. Which brought about the problem of how to transport it. She’d managed to get her bags to her hotel without fuss when she’d arrived, but the furnishing of the shuttle would take a great deal more hands. Perhaps she could convince someone on this ship to help her.

A desk would be nice, too – sturdy, with a good lock, for all her important items, like her hand-held computer. It would fit well near the screen embedded in one of the shuttle’s walls. She already had a small rug, but at least one large rug was probably needed to pad the floor and keep away the cold. And something for the walls, although she wasn’t sure what...

She prioritized her list of items, bedding at the top of said list, then left the shuttle. Moving on the catwalk, she realized that she didn’t know much about the layout of Fireflies. If she found Bargara, he could show her around.

Not seeing him - or anyone else - Ainsley sighed. "O, zhe zhen shi ge kuaile de jinzhan," she muttered sarcastically. "Hello? Anyone around?"

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Monday, June 29, 2009 8:48 AM

Lincoln passed the stairs he'd come down and headed in a forward direction, intending to see if the Captain was still negotiating with the renter. He also needed to run a diagnostic of the ships undocking mechanisms well in advance of departure. That damned left fuel coupling gave them trouble sometimes, on most ships it was a quick and simple replacement, on a Firefly it was a surprisingly annoying and complex job. He'd never been able to fix it and neither had Bucket. The captain wouldn't pay for the inconvenient but non-vital work, so it like many other issues, set awaiting a more skilled mechanic's hand.

The cargo bay was silent except for his faintly echoing footfalls as he crossed the expanse to the far stairs. Numerous crates and various containers, both marked and unmarked, set about in roughly organized fashion. The aft starboard corner was set up with lockers, benches and a weight set for crew usage. As he passed under the lower walk bridging the rear stairs of the hold, he heard someone above.

"Hello? Anyone around?" the voice said, not very loudly.

"Yeah." He said and looked up to see Ainsley leaning over the catwalk railing. "What's the need?"

As he looked up he'd noticed movement through the small window of the cargo bay doors.

<----<<{-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-}>>---->

<----<<{-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-}>>---->
"Progress doesn't come from early risers — progress is made by lazy men looking for easier ways to do things." Robert A. Heinlein

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Monday, June 29, 2009 6:38 PM

“Was hoping to catch up with ya, but I only saw the pack.” She gestured with the end of the flask, still offering it to him.

Mei approached the crew outside her ship. By now, her scars were quite visible.

"You hiring?" she asked.

Shade looked up, the flask still proffered in her hand. She arched an eyebrow at the woman, and looked back at Pack Man. “Guess that’s the 50 million credit question, now, ain’t it?”

With her back currently to the airlock door, she didn’t notice the movement inside. She’d noticed the scars on the girl – impressive, but it had the look of victim scars, not battle wounds. She could be wrong – what with the war, scars were getting harder to define. Might be something exploded other than an engine, nowadays. Shade didn’t approve of war, necessarily. Was way more fun to fight with people one on one for personal reasons. War just took all the fun out of violence.

She gave Pack Man a bit of a wry smile, “Look, I rescued it from a skinny kid, figured I’d return it if I ever got the chance.” Civility – that’s what she’d forgotten. “My name’s Shade.” She tipped her head toward Scarred Girl, “Not sure if yer ship’d got room, but looks like ya got no shortage of applicants.”

Shade wanted to go; NOW. She didn’t like competition just walkin’ up and interrupting her game, but she knew they woman had no idea what they’d been discussing. Just bad timing. Add to that no idea what sort of position she might be applying for, she still felt it was better moving on.

A nasty impulse spurred her, and without really intending to say anything, she heard herself say, “Actually, I know fer a fact guy next slip over is looking for some service – the Wednesday. Might be offering what yer lookin’ for.” She almost felt bad turning the girl in fat man’s direction, but the scars brought up another point. Fat man might not hit on her that way. Almost enough to make Shade jealous.

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Wednesday, July 1, 2009 3:28 PM

YINYANG

You were busy trying to get yourself lit on fire. It happens.

"Yeah." Bargara appeared, seemingly from nowhere. "What's the need?"

"I want a tour of the ship," Ainsley replied. "Also, if there are any other crew members about, I was interested in having them help me with some errands I need to run. They'd be well-compensated."

She waited for Bargara's response before moving again. It occurred to her, looking around the cargo bay, that she was probably going to be going up and down a lot of stairs during her time here. In that case, she added a pair of sturdier shoes to her shopping list - she hadn't really thought ahead when she had packed her things.

Hell, she hadn't really thought ahead at all. She'd certainly never expected to be on be on board a Firefly, with a crew of people she hardly knew, in search of Alliance secrets.

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

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Saturday, July 4, 2009 2:07 PM

"Three Hills… huge battle." The first mate's words bounced around inside Jackie's head, and she felt that old familiar sick migraine threatening to return. She reached down for her suitcase, lifting it with a grunt, and flopped it down onto her undressed cot.

She hated the war, hated the waste and the misery, but understood the need to fight for independence. Understood it enough to have joined the battle not so long ago.

Having opened the battered case, she rummaged through piles of clothing hastily packed in her rush to outrun Flinders' men. Then she found what she was searching for.

The smooth hard metal frame eased her tension like a sedative. Gently, she lifted out the 8 x 10 hologram and gazed down at the image of her slightly younger self in a stiff nurse's cap, Sgt. Danny Holliday beside her in his plain brown coat, rifle at his side.

This wasn't a picture of smiling newlyweds. They'd already tasted the bitter dregs of death and destruction by the time this holo was made. Instead, they gazed into the camera with hope in their eyes, mouths set in grim determination, her arm around his waist, his around her shoulders.

She placed it on a self beside her cot where she could look at it before turning in. He'd be happy she was leaving Beylix.

She sighed and stooped to pick up her medical bag, then headed for the infirmary.

Conveniently, it wasn't far from her bunk. She turned on the lights as she entered the space, about half the size of her own clinic and well lit. She set her bag on a counter, relieved to find it relatively clean, and proceeded to open drawers and make inspections.

None of the equipment was state of the art, but it was solid classic stuff. The heart monitor had been well maintained, as had the diagnostic ultra-sonar, and the plasmatic defibrillators. She found an old model molecuscope and plenty of antibiotics that weren't too long past expiration to still be useful.

She was pleased. The Defiant appeared to have all the standard equipment and supplies necessary for basic exams, routine care, and typical emergency operations.

Behind her came the sound of someone clearing their throat.

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Saturday, July 4, 2009 3:41 PM

"Do you need anything?"
Dale asked, propped against the doorway.
He knew that, whilst polite, his tone of voice had a hint of ire to it.

Wouldnt hurt to let her know she'd intruded.

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Saturday, July 4, 2009 5:22 PM

"Well, we could do with some flak packets," Jackie began, interiorly visualizing a list of medications that might be needed if they were heading into a war zone, "and another dozen boxes of gauze strips wouldn't come amiss, along with…."

She stopped suddenly, realizing that there was more being communicated here than his words had conveyed.

"Uh… Dale, isn't it?" Jackie noted his stance, the young man's casual alertness, and something about his expression that seemed almost proprietary regarding the infirmary.

"Oh!" She cried, the truth dawning, "You take good care of the place. I figured … I wonder why… you're a doctor?"

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Saturday, July 4, 2009 8:31 PM

"Well, we could do with a couple of flak jackets"
Dale blinked.

Did he hear that right? She didnt say band-aids??

"and another dozen boxes of gauze strips wouldnt come amiss, along with..."
Dales jaw dropped
She wasn't joking. She was serious. Taking inventory.. but, who the hell was she?
The lady dropped her gaze from the imaginary- whatever she was thinking about, turning her light brown eyes on him.
"uh, Dale, isnt it?"
Something was wrong here. Forboding.
She knew this space to well. Her oddly meticulous and prolonged search for object X suddenly seemed more like an inspection. She was familiar with these spaces.
"Oh!"
The lady's (why hadnt he asked her name yet?) expression jumped from brow furrowed puzzle-ing to a kinda cute shock.
light brown eyes
soft pink lips
a stupid hopefull voice in his head said-
"Maybe shes a nurse?"

"You take good care of the place. I figured. I wonder why?"
oh oh. Kindness. Not a good sign. Only superiors are allowed objective kindness. She wasnt a nurse.

Which left one possible identity

Dale gulped

"...your a doctor?"

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Sunday, July 5, 2009 8:57 AM

He figured it was just sight seers. Some folks just liked to look at the ships, could be a bit annoying at times. He looked back up to Ainsley.

"Sure, depending on what the tasks are I am sure I could find you some volunteers. As for a tour I could arrange that. There's not much to see, on a small boat." He straightened a crate he noticed had slid partially out of it's binding. "You'll be seeing an awful lot of it. Unless you're the type to keep to your shuttle."

He didn't think he'd find many volunteers, not unless Dale wanted to give a hand. Bucket was probably passed out in the middle of his room, Captain was most likely in his office, the Doc just got here. It depended on what sort of errands she was talking about. He'd probably volunteer, just to have something better to do than talk to the captain for awhile.

He spoke his mind. "What sort of errands are we talking about here?"

<----<<{-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-}>>---->

<----<<{-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-}>>---->
"Progress doesn't come from early risers — progress is made by lazy men looking for easier ways to do things." Robert A. Heinlein

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Monday, July 6, 2009 1:45 AM

Dales head went temporarily numb.
It felt like all the blood was leaving his head, precisely at the moment his brain needed to use it up there.
Hundreds of half formed questions, panics and ideas shot through his head instantaneously as he felt his legs go slightly weak at the thoughts themselves.

ShesADoctor!ThatMakesMeUseless!CAO!
NoWorkNoWayToPayFare!WillTheCapLetMeStay!?NoHomeNoBucketNoLincolnNoNothing
DA-SHIANG BAO-TZA SHR DUH LAH DOO-TZE!

Dale shut his eyes,
breathing in...

breathing out.

Eyes open, feeling at least calm, if not well- Dale walked to a clear stretch of bench lined wall, sitting on it.

Eyes back on the new doctor, he found his head blissfully blank. Better that way,
that meant he'd be able to speak.

"Well, that depends, how good are you?"

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Monday, July 6, 2009 5:00 AM

Jackie watched Dale go suddenly pale.

Concerned, she stepped forward to offer her help, but he moved away from the door on slightly unstable legs. She was relieved when he sat down because she was beginning to worry she'd have to pick him up off the floor.

He closed his eyes as if gathering himself, looked at her and said, "Well, that depends, how good are you?"

She ignored his question for the moment, concerned more about Dale's condition. As the ship's medic -- or maybe the ship's second medic, she wasn't quite sure at this point -- the health of crew and passengers on board was her responsibility.

"Do you have these spells often?" She frowned, moving toward Dale with an outstretched arm, intending to check his forehead for a fever.

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Monday, July 6, 2009 8:15 AM

Everyday at four fifteen Dale thought dryly, but keeping his words to himself as she leant over to take his temperature.
Fair enough too, he did feel faint, and his blood-less head was probably clammy too..
But the Doc's hand was warm. Whoa, when was the last time someone had touched him outside of awkward handshakes?
Suddenly Dale felt very hot as he noticed the Doc's proximity, and for the first time noticed her slim, fit figure leant over him.
Intensly studying the molecuscope across the far side of the infirmary suddenly seemed THE most appropriate thing to do.
But even that didnt help entirely, as, deprived of innapropriate vision, Dale was overwhelmed by the indefinable allure that is unique to the well cared for hair of beautiful ladies.
Ok, so passive ignoring isnt working, time to actively ignore. Work against it Dale!
Think. Unsexy thoughts. Niagara falls. NO! That makes you piss. Think unpleasant thoughts! Yes! Like that-...
Dale felt a swooping sensation in his stomach, and a definite cooling off of, well, areas unmentioned.
She was a doctor. A great doctor as far as first impressions went. Great bedside manner, professional,confident, diligent (...still leaning over me taking temperature!?)
"Well, I guess that answers my first question"
Dale thought, then realised he'd done so aloud.
Best to follow up
"As for your first question..Me.." Dale shrugged "I, I was the lesser of two evils. Bigger evil being- no medic"

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Monday, July 6, 2009 3:14 PM

"You mean the pile of go-se sitting over there?" Mei shrugged. "Well, I'll give it a shot."

Mei walked up to the fat man sitting outside the ship. He didn't exactly look trustworthy, but looks could be deceiving.

"You hiring?" she asked.

The man looked her down, appraising her in a way that made Mei feel somewhat uncomfortable. His look of interest was soon replaced by one of disgust.

"Forget it, ugly. You ain't worth my time."

Mei shrugged, and returned to the Defiant.

"No luck there," she said to the woman who had pointed her to the Wednesday. "What's your name, by the way?"

But... FOR THE LOVE OF EXPLOSIVES!

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Tuesday, July 7, 2009 6:12 PM

"Well, I guess that answers my first question," Dale muttered, barely audible.

The doctor lowered her hand from the patient's forehead, satisfied there was no fever. The fellow seemed awfully nervous, twitching about on the bench, eyes darting from one place to another and rarely meeting her own.

Odd, he'd seemed rather cocky when she'd first seen him in the lounge. Apparently, her presence in the infirmary had made him very uncomfortable.

Or he was suffering from space dementia. Not enough information to make a diagnosis yet.

"As for your first question... me...," he continued, with a shrug, "I, I was the lesser of two evils. Bigger evil being no medic."

"I'm Doc Holliday, by the way, in case you didn't catch the name." She shook his hand and then moved to his wrist to take his pulse.

"A little rapid," Jackie said, carefully hiding her concern. She released his wrist and stepped over to her medical bag, drawing out a stethoscope.

"So you've been the ship's medic," she stated, thinking about the strange behavior of the pilot, Bargara's limp, and wondered why the captain hadn't mentioned they already had a medic. She'd ask Dale about his training after he calmed down a bit.

"Looks like us two have some common ground to stand on," she smiled benignly, and moved beside the examining table. "How long's it been since you yourself had a proper exam, hmm?"

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Tuesday, July 7, 2009 10:08 PM

Hmm. Good question. When had he last had a proper exams?
Had he ever? Nothing serious, just child-hood check ups, nothin like a full body exam..
Oh god.

Does she mean that!? Now? Me? Her?
Sheesh- Dale blew out. Medical exams werent ever really sexy, but he didnt trust his anatomy to behave with her around, touching, feeling. DAMN!
Dale crossed his legs he what he hoped was a casual way. There was no way he could trust his anatomy.
Or mind, for that matter.
Ok- bluff and blah power- ENGAGE!

"Nothing lately Doctor Holliday, been a fair few years since I had anything serious enough to visit one on my own health's sake."
The doctor looked like she might start to talk so he continued, faster- so she wouldnt interrupt.
"Oh, and in med school when learning tests we'd usually practise some on each other and ourselves. All my vitals, bp and cholestrol levels are on the healthy side of normal"
He said this last part as he unfolded his legs and dropped off the bench, starting to head for the door-a cheery great-to-meet-greet-and-cya-later line all lined up to disguise his retreat.
All he had to do was get through the door without her saying anything...

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Wednesday, July 8, 2009 8:33 AM

"I wonder if anyone is home?" Mei wondered aloud.

Curious, she walked up to the main hatch, and knocked twice.

But... FOR THE LOVE OF EXPLOSIVES!

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Saturday, July 11, 2009 6:46 PM

Lincoln noticed movement outside the ship, again. This time he realized he'd better go and see to it. Ainsley began to reply but he held up a hand and waved it subtly as he turned away, heading towards the cargo doors.

"What?" Ainsley asked curiously.

"Just a second, there's someone outside. I have to see what this is about." He reached the smaller door set within the outer doors and put his hand on the opening mechanism. The scratched and tarnished metal cold to the touch.

"Probably just some lookie-lous..."

Thunk thud... a soft knocking from the outside. It echoed dully in the cargo hold.

He opened the door with little effort. Hearing a soft hiss as the slightly different air pressures equalized suddenly.

Standing on the extended access ramp were three individuals, a rugged looking man with dark hair, a woman with disfiguring facial scarring and another woman with brown hair and a travel worn knee-length coat. They had been speaking when he opened the hatch, he noted the taller woman was leaning next to the broken button for the rear access light. He glanced to each of them, the woman with the scars was probably the one who'd knocked. No one spoke immediately so he took a breath..

"Uh.. hello? This is a private vessel, can I help you?

<----<<{-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-}>>---->
"Progress doesn't come from early risers — progress is made by lazy men looking for easier ways to do things." Robert A. Heinlein

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Sunday, July 12, 2009 1:42 AM

Mission success! Victory is mine! All crew members accounted for, privacy shield reading at 100%!
"Great to meet ya Mrs Holliday, I'll cya later" Dale called over his shoulder as he strode out, up towards the cargo bay- masterfully avoiding skipping, he still couldn't help but feel jaunty at his survival.

Looked to be a crowd by the door though..
Two of them were ladies.
AND a lady up top on the walkway
Geez where did all these X-chromosomes come from?
Hmm.. I'd better re-learn indifference again. It'd be a necessity, considering recent events. Always handy for off ship socialising too.
Soo.. where was I going?
Where was I? Kitchen, med bay, bunk! Thats it. Damn. Med bay is between here and there..

Hmm. Well, maybe I can talk to Lincoln.
I wonder if he'd consider buying some sugar as a provision for the ship..

Sugar- "it makes coffee bearable"

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Sunday, July 12, 2009 4:44 PM

Jackie opened her mouth to ask Dale about his medical training, but wasn't able to get a word in. He quickly skirted the exam chair, chattering as he backed toward the door.

"Great to meet ya, Mrs. Holliday. I'll see ya later!" Then he was gone.

Either the crewman had something to hide or he had an illogical fear of physical exams. She was betting on the latter.

"It's Doctor Holliday," she said, though no one else heard.

With the infirmary quiet again, her own fears came creeping back. Why hadn't the ship left the dock yet?

She slipped off her stethoscope and placed it in her bag, closing it with a snap. Another minute in Beylix made it all the more likely that Flinders would find her, have her arrested for assault, and haul her back to the village where he would meet out his own corrupt brand of justice.

If things hadn't been bad enough before she'd clobbered him.... She shuddered at the thought of what he might do to her now.

And from the look of Captain Rey, he'd give her over for a profit without a second thought, if such an opportunity arose.

Checking the windows with a quick glance to be sure no one was near, Jackie pulled out her tazer from it's hidden sheath beneath her loose pant leg. She clicked the safety lock off and powered it up. Just in case. The high pitched whine wasn't loud enough for anyone to hear outside the infirmary and she relaxed a little, reassured by the sound.

She slipped it back into its sheath and picked up her bag. She remembered something Danny had told her about the Firefly ships. Good for smuggling due to all the little hidey holes built into the design. Time to find herself one and hole up until takeoff.

She stepped out of the infirmary, but instantly froze at the sound of a distant grating, scraping of metal on metal. She quickly got her bearings, heart quickening as she realized it was coming from the direction of the cargo bay.

She hurried toward the sound, stopping just before reaching the cargo bay. Slowly, she peaked around the corner. The first mate stood, looming large in silhouette against the bright light of day shining through an open door.

"This is a private vessel, can I help you?" she heard him ask.

Jackie held her breath. Gods, don't let it be them!

Bargara moved aside and she saw three figures outside.

Not waiting to find out if it was Flinders' gang, instead jumping to the worst possible conclusion that they were here to take her, Jackie pulled her medical bag up under her arm, and turned to flee.

Pivoting on the balls of her feet, she ran smack into ….

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Monday, July 13, 2009 4:49 PM

Mei looked up at the man in the doorway. He was bigger than Mei had expected.

On the other hand, he looked friendly enough.

Well, here goes nothing.

"Hi, I'm Mei Lara. We were all kinda wondering if you were hiring at all."

But... FOR THE LOVE OF EXPLOSIVES!

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Wednesday, July 15, 2009 6:30 PM

Shade was saved from having to deal with the flask by Mei's question - but before she could answer her; something she wasn't sure she was ready to anyway; the girl didn't even let her answer. She moved right past Shade, before she could even open her mouth, and knocked on the door. Shade raised her eyebrows, a little worried about the possibility of having to work alongside someone like this. She moved aside, surprised - and a little annoyed - when the door actually opened. Fine - ignore the doorbell, answer wacky-pants' knock.. be that way...

"Uh.. hello? This is a private vessel, can I help you?"

Wacky-pants didn't give anyone else a chance to respond, and Shade was fine letting her jump forward and be the guinea pig.

"Hi, I'm Mei Lara. We were all kinda wondering if you were hiring at all."

Shade just smirked a little, the flask forgotten in her hand, and she just gave the man inside the airlock a raised eyebrow, as if to echo Mei's question, Well.. ARE you?

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Thursday, July 16, 2009 9:35 AM

He looked from the scarred woman to the other and nearly matched her expression. He glanced to the man in the back but he seemed a bit taken aback at the abrupt greeting as well. After what felt like ten minutes of staring at each other, but was in fact more likely twenty seconds, Lincoln cleared his throat and replied.

"That would depend on what sort of services you're offering. One moment." He turned and left them outside the ship and pressed his palm to a large button on a communications access terminal next to the stairs.

"Captain? Please get down to the cargo hold, we've got.. uh.. solicitors" He said the last more quietly and glanced back as he did so.

The captain's voice followed after a beat. "Just tell them to fu..."

"Nathan." Bargara interrupted quickly, glancing up to Ainsley and noticing Dale as he moved across the deck. "Seriously Captain, get down here."

He turned and approached the smaller cargo door again. Once there he gave the trio a quick once over. They didn't seem like Radicals, or even beggars or freeloaders. Besides, they could just as easily cause them trouble standing outside the ship as inside.

"Ok I called for the captain, if you all are seriously seeking work, come on in."

He stepped back, leaving them room to enter the mostly clear forward space of the cargo deck.

"So, again, what sort of work are you three looking for, exactly?"

<----<<{-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-}>>---->

<----<<{-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-}>>---->
"Progress doesn't come from early risers — progress is made by lazy men looking for easier ways to do things." Robert A. Heinlein

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Thursday, July 16, 2009 3:39 PM

Shade eyed the man speculatively, easily moving forward at his invitation. Jian ta de guai, she wasn't timid, she was going to get this over with. Stepping into the airlock, she offered the man a firm, almost masculine handshake.

"My name's Shade Whitmore, sir," she nodded once, in greeting, "Got experience in moving freight, mostly, whatnot work as needed. Not much skilled in repairs and the like, but I'm stronger than I look." She made a sort of half smile, adding "Done a little security, too, when was needed." The phrase was near universally understood, when it applied, as one who could generally provide a little violence, at a captain's request. Shade didn't elucidate on the subject. If he wanted to know more, he'd ask.

She stepped back, "Just lookin' for a berth, for the time being - permanent, or temporary, if the job's not a fit." Such was the usual in the business. If you fit, you'd keep your bunk, if not, you'd find a new berth at the next stop. Shade had mostly followed the latter pattern, but there was always hope. Or in her case, maybe that was just how she liked things. "If you want 'em, I got some references." Not that they count for much anymore... The war made a lot of things unreliable and unsure. Whether any of her previous bosses were reachable, and whether they'd have something pleasant to say, she wouldn't have wanted to put money on it, either way.

Still, there was one thing they couldn't argue - she was good. She might not be polite, or sweet, or cuddly, but she was good.

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Thursday, July 16, 2009 3:52 PM

Lincoln listened to her spiel, knowing full well what she meant by security. He'd only been First Mate for a short time but he knew the typical mercenary language from his years spent hopping from one roughneck crew to the next. He'd already determined this one meant business, about the same time he discovered her strong grip. She looked a bit rough around the edges, but didn't seem outwardly violent or brash, which is more than he could say for a few others he'd met of this profession.

"Great. Captain should be down in.. well hopefully soon." he glanced past her to the catwalk, listening for footsteps on the deck above.

He heard none yet.

<----<<{-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-}>>---->
"Progress doesn't come from early risers — progress is made by lazy men looking for easier ways to do things." Robert A. Heinlein

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Friday, July 17, 2009 1:27 PM

Nathan fumbled around his room for his pistol. He’d put it down here somewhere. His search had the end result of several bundles of paper lining the floor and a pistol that hadn’t been anywhere near them. Confident if the shit hit the fan he wouldn’t be a sitting duck, he made his way to the galley, then through the medical bay and passenger dorms to the cargo deck.

This route had meant he had come out on the complete other side of the room than the entrance. Nathan strode across the grated utilitarian deck in a fashion that he hoped would make the ‘solicitors’ aware he was the sad-little-king of this sad-little-hill.

“I’m pretty sure Lincoln has told you a damned lot more about me then he has about you guys to me.” Nathan said when he had reached the group awaiting his attention “So, to whom and why do I owe the pleasure?”

Lincolnz: Buttle... to duel with ones buttocks

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Saturday, July 18, 2009 8:45 AM

"I'm Mei Lara," she introduced herself. "I've got thousands of EVA hours. I have experience in mining, salvage, and demolitions operations." She recalled the countless times she was bribed/cajoled/drafted into helping Terrence fix something. "I spent most of my life on board a spaceship, so I can help with a lot of repairs... and I've served with the Independent Navy since the start of the war." She needed to get that out - it would come out soon anyway, and if this captain was backing the Alliance, she didn't want to fly on his ship.

"My ship was destroyed near Athens a month ago. I made it here on a damaged shuttle. I'm mostly done with fighting, but I'd really like to get back out in the black." Part of her did want to get back into the fight, to avenge her homeship and family. But a greater part of her was tired. At minimum, she needed a few months doing (relatively) peaceful work.

"Oh, and I have my own spacesuit," she gestured to what she was wearing. It was a little obvious, but she thought it bore saying.

But... FOR THE LOVE OF EXPLOSIVES!

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Saturday, July 18, 2009 10:19 PM

“Great story” Nathan put in; if she went on anymore he’d find his way to the nearest air lock and vent himself. “I’m sure there are plenty of crews in need of people of your obvious talent, but we’re not one of them.”

Nathan didn’t believe her. It wouldn’t have been the first to come up with fanciful stories that told the subject that he or she was the best in the business.

*Make sure you check the OOC thread later Meshakhad, I'll have a post up soon.*

Lincolnz: Buttle... to duel with ones buttocks

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Sunday, July 19, 2009 8:37 PM

Moe gathered up his effects and shoved them into his backpack at random, abstracting the packing process with his destination within a mere dozen steps walking. He tuned out the women's inquiries and brazen self-promotion, but pricked up his ears at captain Rey's appearance, spying on the ensuing exchange from his knelt position by the edge the loading ramp.

Quote:
“Great story” Nathan put in; if she went on anymore he’d find his way to the nearest air lock and vent himself. “I’m sure there are plenty of crews in need of people of your obvious talent, but we’re not one of them.”

He shook with quiet amusement, his brows furrowed and his lips in a loose sneer. Takes more than a shiny dress to land yourself a room in this castle, princess. He commended the girl for her doggedness, questing after offworld work fresh out of the throes of war as she was, but wandering the docks, stopping at random airlocks asking for work was a crapshoot, no matter your qualifications. He pulled the zipper up as high as it would go, then got up off his knees, a suitcase in each hand and his haphazard bundle of belongings slung over his shoulder, a denim pant leg dangling slapdash from the yawning backpack.

He walked up the ramp and raised a luggage-laden hand as means of greeting. "Mornin' captain," he called, his voice loud so as to assert his presence. "Permission to come aboard?"

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Monday, July 20, 2009 3:00 AM

When Lincoln had said ‘Solicitors’, Nathan had assumed he meant ‘People he really didn’t need to care about, and it was probably time to practice those reject lines on the party’. It was this; Nathan told himself, that was the cause of the oversight.

“Permission granted. It’s nice to finally have a proper mechanic aboard.” Nathan glanced over at the last of the trio. “We’ll arrange quarters for you in a second.”

Nathan had guessed that there was about a decade between the woman and himself, but it was quite obvious she’d been through a lot more scrapes then he had. Either she was looking for a fight, or she was looking to be paid to fight.

Lincolnz: Buttle... to duel with ones buttocks

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Monday, July 20, 2009 1:48 PM

Shade stood back, somewhere between annoyed and fed up. She had thought she had just gave her spiel and was awaiting the Captain's yea or nay on her hiring. It was completely normal for a First Mate to pre-interview new crew, she'd gone through it more than a few times. Instead, the man had shown up with every sign of telling everyone to get their pigus off his boat. Mei had sort of jumped in to toss out a full resume and life summary, earning her a irritated and impatient blow-off. Shade's instincts told her to wait. They told her the ball was in the other court - she'd served it when she'd introduced herself to him, not it was his turn to pass to the Captain, and the Captain would pass it back. Or so she assumed.. that was how it usually worked.

Until Mei finished, either by stepping up and giving the captain a real reason to hire her, Shade was content to wait until it was her turn. She stepped out of the way of Pack Man, as he moved towards entering the ship. He asked for permission to board - he knew the courtesies. He'd said it was sort of his boat, and she wondered while she waited if he was a part owner, resident, crew... but the Captain referred to him as a mechanic, and Shade understood. He was crew. Not in charge of hiring, so just as well she hadn't gotten around to actually asking him for work.

That restless little voice that sometimes yelled a little too loud was speaking up now. It wanted her to move on, just leave this mess and try another ship. Unconsciously, she looked up at the nose of the ship, above them, and thought again how she rather liked these fireflies. How they sort of just drew you in, maybe something about the vaguely animal shape, the head and body, the suggestion of something.. living.

Or not. Maybe they were just cute. She dropped her eyes to the conversations in front of her, not wanting to miss her cue when the First Mate passed on her introduction. Or until someone seemed ready to hear her. She wasn't a puppy, she was a finely tuned (if often abused) tool, and for all she knew, this crew might not know what to do with her. Not that she wouldn't be happy hauling cargo to their next destination. She just had to get off this tin can, get moving again. Her hands had returned to her pockets, and with them, the flask. She hooked her thumbs on her pockets, hands hanging outside, her stance deceptively tense. She seemed relaxed, even bored. She was neither. Tense and irritated, impatient and a little nervous, maybe.

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Monday, July 20, 2009 3:50 PM

"Oh, and I have my own spacesuit," she said, gesturing to her gear.

Lincoln's eyebrow shot up, having already noticed the get-up she was wearing but thinking it wise not to point it out. It wasn't everyday you saw someone walking around suited up for a cold jaunt, at least someone who wasn't maintenance staff. For being raving bugnuts crazy she certainly seemed confident, he gave her that much.

"I’m sure there are plenty of crews in need of people of your obvious talent, but we’re not one of them.” Nathan replied, deadpan.

He wasn't surprised at the captain's reaction. It typically wasn't the best idea to walk up and just show your cards. Nathan typically didn't care for that sort of pitch, he'd seen him physically kick someone off the ship for less. She was getting off lucky but he still felt a bit of sympathy for her, if half of what she said was true she might be useful in certain situations.

"Uh this is.." He started to introduce the second woman but was interrupted by the rough looking man with the big pack. He'd finally decided to speak up.

"Mornin' captain, permission to come aboard?"

The Captain granted him permission and mentioned arranging quarters. So this was the mechanic Nathan mentioned hiring, Lincoln had skimmed the man's credentials the day before. He glanced from the man back to the captain, who now seemed to be sizing up the young woman in the long coat. She was glancing up and out of the cargo hold, toward the underside of the hull above the large docking access view-way.

"Like I was saying Captain. This is.. uh.. Shade Whitmore." He hesitated a moment, hoping he got the name correct, then continued. "She's also looking for work, experience in the usual cargo hauling, security."

He added the last word firmly, with a subtle twist to the inflection, indicating the obvious meaning behind the commonly used term. He realized it was probably unneeded, Nate had a keen eye for that sort of folk.

"This would, of course, be Captain Rey." Lincoln introduced his captain, feeling like it was pointless by now but trying to stick to protocol. He wasn't used to so many people around at once, they'd been a small crew for some time now.

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"Progress doesn't come from early risers — progress is made by lazy men looking for easier ways to do things." Robert A. Heinlein

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Wednesday, July 22, 2009 10:09 PM

Nathan sized up the positives and negatives of hiring Whitmore. On one hand, the extra gun hand would help on the planed job, especially if thinks went to what he expected. He couldn’t shake however, that it would add to the cost of a job that was supposed to make a substantial amount of platinum, when most of his crew knew how to train a gun on someone.

“Preferably I wouldn’t need you, Whitmore.” Nathan took a dramatic pause, hoping his wording was ambiguous enough to cast doubt on what his ruling would be. “I’ll give you a steady cut of three percent of earnings. Assuming things aren’t preferable, you’ll have twelve percent combat earning.”

While the idea was she would rush in and accept it without thinking, giving Nathan peace in the profit dilemma, he was concerned on the ominous figure of twelve percent. When people weren’t shooting, it was considered strange. Christ, it was the middle of a fucking war. Twelve percent? Nathan suppressed a groan. What the hell was I thinking?

Lincolnz: Buttle... to duel with ones buttocks

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Wednesday, July 22, 2009 10:49 PM