James Guennal accepted the attaché case from the Chancellor of Security, and tried hard to look professional. It wasn’t easy because after months of working gorram ugly runs and hauling ass across the verse, this plum job was gonna be his ticket. Once he pulled off this high security courier run, his name would be on the list, and there be more of the high paying short runs. The chancellor was talking to him about the importance of the package and other things but James was thinking of all the money rolling in – a nice apartment without vermin, hooch from bottles and maybe companions …

“Do you understand Mister Guennal?” The Chancellor asked gravely, bringing him back to the world.

“Yes your Honour. I will try my best.”

“Do or do not. There is no try.”

“Yes your Honour. I do.” He stammered, Spare me the philosophy Buddha
The case was cuffed to his wrist and he stepped back, allowing the chancellor and his staff to exit the building. He looked over at the two security guards that stood awaiting his instructions. “We will go directly to port # 17.” He said, “There will be a courier ship waiting.”

“Are we accompanying you, sir?” one of them asked.

“No.” James replied, “There is a security detail on board. Just get me to the spaceport on time.”

The ride was dull but short. It wasn’t like anyone was gonna come out of nowhere and kill him for some old blueprints of decommissioned military bases and prison. Who cared? James helped himself to a brandy from the Limo’s bar and stretched out his legs – enjoying the luxury he would soon have available. It was strictly against Regs, but to hell with it, he thought to himself while re-pouring, if they were gonna flash it in front of him, he take the free goods.

The limo stopped and one of the guards opened the door for him. Definitely like this. James swayed slightly as he got out and looked at his transport. It was a sleek ship, an Arrowhead class courier ship, which awaited him. Made small and swift, an Arrowhead had no cargo bay doors but the side door was open and two men dressed in black awaited him there.

“Do you want us to sweep the ship, Sir?”

“Huh?” He blurted, “Nah, I don’t think its necessary. They look good to me.”

“Never the less sir, I’d feel better if …”

“Time is of the ess.., est…, due. Do or do not. There is no try.” James slurred.

“Very well sir,” and the two guards walked him to the gangplank and watched him as he climbed abroad. James turned to the two men in black awaiting his pleasure. One was tall, very pale and bald and wore black sunglasses even though they were inside. The other was smaller, black hair and with an ugly scar across his left cheek. They nodded a greeting to him.

“Welcome abroad sir.”

“Good evening Gentleman. I would like to see your best cabin and speak briefly with the security head.”

Those were the last words spoken by James Guennel. The tall man looked like he was offering his hand, but he actually pulled a gun. He fired three times, short paft noises due to a silencer, before James fell to the floor of the ship, and then continued firing until the clip was empty.

“Gorram it Billy!” The short man exclaimed. “You could have waited until we were up outta Atmo!”

“I wasn’t gonna escort him around, Xi. The door was closed; them guards wouldn’t had heard it even if I wasn’t using the suppressor.”

“When I say wait Billy, I mean wait for more than a breathe!”

“Sorry Boss.” Billy replied looking down at his shoes like a schoolboy.

“Well he’s dead now. Go get me them bolt cutters so we can get this case off.”

“What’s the goods?” Billy asked as he walked over to the wall where the tools were hung.

“Don’t know and don’t care. We’re being paid to get the disk, not to ask questions. Remember Billy, Do the Job, get paid, repeat as necessary. Don’t go complicating things with a lot of questions.” Xi broke the cuff and gathered the case in hand. “Okay, as soon as we are outta Atmo, put this loser in the airlock and flush him.”

“Yes Boss.”

“And Billy?” Xi paused to make sure he had the large man’ s attention, “ I mean wait until we are out of atmo. I don’t want no body smashing through the roof of a cab again. You got me?”

“Ahh Xi! I only did that once and I’m labelled for life.”

On June 2511, the Unification War ended. At least it did for most folk – those who wanted to read less about killing and dying in the vids and move on the pleasurable things. No one wanted to know about the aftermath of the war, and no one wanted to ask about what was done with all those prisoners of war.

Larkhill Reclamation Penal Colony was basically an abandoned mining town on Hawthorne – a small moon of Hera. The moon had been terraformed but there turned out to be little of worth so it was left behind. Most people didn’t even know it existed which made it the prefect place for the alliance to drop anyone they didn’t know what to with and wasn’t high enough profile for anyone to care. Some social “pruning” was done as well of the core planet’s worst criminal scum and undesirables to be dumped on the ghost town while the alliance put up a giant electro-fence around it to keep everyone from straying.

When they put everyone in the town it was ugly. Every man for himself at first but then, gangs formed and turf was divided. If you didn’t belong to one then you were fodder for the others. Supplies were dropped weekly and that was a mad rush to grab them and run. The war was easier to live than this life.

It was Angela that brought you together. Kane was freshly dropped in and looking for a place, Brutal was an enforcer for the West Side gang, Melanie was close to the South Side boss, Grace was fixing engines and stealing parts with the Lost Boys. But you were all on the same part of town when it started.

Word was that she was a headcase – couldn’t remember anything for a day. She kept a journal she was always scribbling in and she protected it like it was gold. She would have been used and abused something fierce in here but the old Shepherd keep an eye on her and no one wanted to cross that Shepherd. But he couldn’t watch her all the time and she wandered off while he was napping and into the town.

A new drop prisoner came at her with lust in his eyes. Wanted a girlfriend and she would do he said as he pushed her down with intention to drag her into an alley. He got the surprise of his life though when she fought back. She moved in precise, swift strikes as if she’d trained all her life in marital combat. Broke his leg with a kick, smashed his jaw with the heel of her boot and then medically broke his arm in three places. There was a killing in eyes when she reached for his next, but the man had friends with him that jumped her and pulled her off him.

Kane was first to throw himself into the fray. Shouting something about honour, justice and proper way to treat a lady, he took on the three. Grace tried to get to Angela to get her away but another ambitious man wanted to make a move. Grace didn’t back down and fought him with the knife she carried. Melanie seeing the young mechanic in trouble quickly moved in to help. Kane slugged on of the assailants causing him to spin and bump into Brutal. That pissed off the big man who jumped into the fight and quickly ended it.

Afterwards the group of you walked off together and had a few drinks. You were all tired of living by gang rules and Angela needed someone to watch her back. The Shepherd gave you some guidance about finding your way and you grouped together to establish yourself on the outskirts of town. Grace was a whiz at finding and rebuilding things. Melanie was good with people and leadership, as was Kane. Brutal keep the worse of the gangs at bay. You worked together and created a community where prisoners could come without the gangs and the fights. Angela would showed aptitude for the strangest of things and then forget the next day. But you all felt a sense of pride and friendship when she started remembering your names day after day.

After two years, Larkhill was closed. Some prisoners were rounded up and taken away, others got a trial and sold into indentured servitude. Most were given 100 credits and shoved out the door – and that was the lot of the five of you. You caught a shuttle to Hera and started looking for work and a home, but you stuck together because you knew that you could depend on each other. Trust was a commodity in these worlds, and you had that in each other.

Six months later and the five of you are in a bar called Ace in a Hole, in a drop canyon on Hera. It is shady gambling house and saloon frequented by Independent sympathizers. Melanie has heard from a contact that a guy named Watson is looking for some “labourers” to haul some loads – no questioned asked. Willing to pay you 500 credit a piece for the job. You are supposed to meet him in an hour to discuss the job. You have managed a round of drinks for free because Grace managed to fix the old Wurlitzer Juke Box in the bar that hasn’t played for years. Hopefully, the rest of your night will be as lucky.

Hera – Gambler’s Gully, Ace in the Hole Saloon. 9:00 pm Saturday
It’s 9 o’clock on a Saturday and the regular crowd shuffles in. The Ace wasn’t a booming nightspot by any stretch of the imagination but attracted a clientele that like to wear brown coats and mind their own business. Two holo-billiard tables on the far left of the room, were being used at the moment and all the tables were full, including the one occupied by the likes of you and yours. A few patrons crowded around the bar while others were drawn to the backroom gambling through the bouncer watched doorway. If you’d ask Angela, she’d be able to tell you exactly how many people were in the room, how many had left in the past hour and how many had come in – she couldn’t remember a thing from day to day but she always knew where she stood. Not that you expected trouble here. Gambling was all out of site in the backroom and the feds didn’t hit Gambler’s Gully unless there was trouble. A box canyon in the middle of Titanium mining country, the gully was the home to no less than 7 saloons as well as other pleasurable establishments.

The jukebox played a lively tune and the saloon girls were serving drinks, smiles and promises of other adventures to the patrons.

Exiled and pushed away,
Lost in time
Always I’ll be,
This bitter person who’s
Stuck right here, disillusioned.
The music player hadn’t been working when you came in here, but as always with Grace, uncomfortable with people she don’t know, the mechanic saw something not working and had to fix it. Didn’t take her long either and it scored you a free round of drinks for the night. Funds were getting low with you, and hopefully this job would pay well.

You were waiting on a man named Watson. Word through a friend of Melanie was that he needed someone to move some boxes. Probably something illegal but jobs were few and far between nowadays so any job that paid needed to be considered.

Don’t stand by
If you don’t like what you see.
So once satisfied,
No I won’t take what you said to me
Watson wasn’t late yet, but he said 9 o’clock sharp so here you were, there was the time on the chrono but no Watson to be seen. You looked at each other and wordlessly agreed that you’d wait for a while and then move on if you’d have to. There were plenty of ways a man could get delayed, and many of them were not good.

I know we’re stuck inside a dead end countdown,
With no communication.
Straight down, we’re drowning in the respiration.
We’re lost beneath the surface.

Hera – Gambler’s Gully, Ace in the Hole Saloon. 9:00 pm Saturday
Six months, six long months since they’d gotten out of that crap for Shee-niou prison and all they had to show for it was a possible job. Not a confirmed job only a possible job if this Gaijin Watson ever showed up, he only hoped Melanie had her info right.

As the five of them sat at the table within the Ace in the Hole gambling house and saloon Kane could not help but watch each of his four companions as they waited.

First to his immediate right there was “Brutal”, not his real name of course, but because of his violent vicious way of fighting and his crude habit of behavior had been pinned to him long before the five of them had united for survival. Say what you wanted about the shiong-mung duh kwong-run there was no one, other then the three others with him, Kane trusted more or wanted covering his back.

Next up across from him was Melanie, clearly highly intelligent, she was no jien hwo. On a par with Kane himself in experience, she had a habit of not flaunting it, which in turn helped the both of them to work together, as they in one way or another were the unspoken co’ leaders of this small group of survivors. A good friend if ever Kane had need of one as they all did now.

To his far right seated next to Brutal was Grace an zhen de shi tian chai when it came to machines. Just not more then five minutes earlier she had fixed the old Wurlitzer Juke Box in the corner earning them a round of free drinks. Come time they could acquire a ship of their own, Grace’s skills would be most welcome.

And then Kane set his eyes upon the most cared for member by them all, the group’s
xiao mei mei. If not for her each of the five seated at this table could very well have never met and even now be dead and buried at the Larkhill Reclamation Colony where they all had been prisoners for one reason or another. She who had been the indirect cause of them banding together, and without saying each of the four seated with her would give their lives to protect her.

In some ways more spiritual then physical she was the true leader of the group. But his thoughts once again turned back to this supposed meet and the lack of this Watson character he turned to gaze at Melanie.

“So Mel just how much do you know of this Watson character and his need of labourers?”

Hera – Gambler’s Gully, Ace in the Hole Saloon. 9:00 pm Saturday

Grace as soon as she entered the bar got twitchy. She didn’t like bars too much. There were too many people in them that could remember a red headed girl such as herself. She looked around noting there weren’t many doors and only a few windows. Grace spotted the jukebox just as she sat down. Grace immediately grabbed the mutitool out of her pocket. Careful not to scrap the chair as she got up. Grace went to the jukebox. She turned it so she could get to the hatch. She pulled the screw driver part out. She opened the little hatch.

Just as she had guessed one too many kicks (trying to get a free song) had knock a couple of wires loose. Grace reached inside and corrected the wires. Immediately the jukebox lit up. Pleased with her self; Grace screwed the door to hatch back on. As she got up, the bartender came over. He frowned at her then push the button on the jukebox. Everyone but Grace jumped when the music started playing. Grace sat down between Phil and Angela.

The bartender had thanked them with a free round of drinks. Grace kept the smile off her face as they got their drinks. As they waited for Watson; Kane looked at the four of them. Grace met his eyes a couple of times. When 9:00 clock came around, the five of them looked at each other. They wordlessly agreed to wait a little longer. Grace could think of a lot of reason why he could be late and not too many were pleasant. She had heard of Watson before from a friend. However she had never work for him when she had first started…

“So Mel just how much do you know of this Watson character and his need of labourers?” asked Kane. Grace looked up and glanced at Melanie. Grace still remembers during that fight a man had tried to attack her. If Melanie hadn’t helped, who knows what he could have done to her?

“Maybe he just late?” Grace offered trying to get her mind of that dark thought.

The noise from the bar’s patrons and the now repaired jukebox washed over the woman called Angela Ryan. She may have known the song once, but not now, just as she may have known some of the barflies, or not. It didn’t matter, today. Today was all Angela had, and she was going to hang onto it with every ounce of will she had.

It had started well. This morning, she’d almost known her companions, needing only a quick glance in her notebook to confirm what she could almost remember, instead of the sick panic she couldn’t recall experiencing, but her body anticipated when she woke. She’d been pretty certain she’d bought the clothes she put on, rather than stolen, though the memory of buying them was gone with everything else. The pistols she’d strapped on each hip may have been hers, or not, but she knew them in a way she knew little else. Without even reaching for the memory, she knew their range, the ammo they took and any others she could substitute in a pinch, how to break ‘em down, clean ‘em and re-assemble ‘em, and she knew she could do it blindfolded if necessary.

It was enough. She sat in a relaxed pose, back to wall, seemingly staring off into space, but watching everything by focusing on nothing in particular. A steaming cup of s’pro rested close at hand, and Angela sipped the stimulant laced coffee derivative as quickly as she could handle the heat, feeling the caffeine hold the fog of fatigue at bay. She was still alert, but had read in her journal that tiredness would wash away what little she’d regained for herself.

“So Mel just how much do you know of this Watson character and his need of labourers?”, the man to Angela’s right asked, and the slight woman glanced his way, before regarding the rest of the people with her. It amazed her that they knew her, and seemed to accept her, when she could remember squat about them. Still, her instincts told her that she could trust them, and with certainty a no show, she’d follow instinct.

“I’m guessin’ I’m not the only one who doesn’t know Watson?” she asked, before colouring slightly and looking down at her hands.” I mean, I don’t know Watson, right?”

Melanie, Lt Moore as she had once been known, spun the centerpiece of her Python 6 revolver before flipping it back in place and returned it to its shoulder rig. Next was the brass check of her Marakov, pulling the slide back just far enough to ensure a round was in place and returning in to the holster that hung on her hip and secured it. It only took a fraction of a second to unsnap the securing strap, but she would be cursing herself for a long time if they had to take off at a moment’s notice and the durned thing fell out. One could never be too careful when entering an establishment where one did not know all the people there, even if they shared a history. Gambler’s Gully was the name of the place, and the brown duster she wore would keep any unfriendly looks from coming her way. This place was full of Independents. Even though the war was over, long so, there were still those like herself that held to their beliefs.

It was 2100 at the Gambler’s Gully as the group sat at the table with their drinks. She stared into the small glass of clear alcohol and wondered how many it would take to put her under. Melanie wasn’t good at handling her liquor and decided that this one would be enough. Only one tonight, Mel, you need to keep your wits about you. She did not even feel bad that she had not paid for the drink, but it had been given to her for the fact that she was with the woman that had fixed the bar’s jukebox. Oh, she could recall a time when she had had more than enough credits to buy up this bar and everything in it with money left over, but it had all been her father’s money. Things had happened in the ‘verse, things that she could not just leave be, and she had left home against her father’s wishes. Regrets, however, had not come; Melanie knew that she would make the same choices again if she had to. Now, though, she did not even have a five credit note in her pocket, sad days indeed.

There was the five of them sitting at the table in this godforsaken place, this cesspool of a planet. Across from Melanie sat Kane, another former pilot from the war and an Independent officer as well; all of the pilots had been commissioned. He had a reputation as a durned good pilot, famous throughout the Independent Navy, with bigger a bigger ship and bigger loads. Melanie knew she could fly just as well if not better, but she had had the jobs of running the cargo planetside, more dangerous flying against the AA guns and enemy fighters, but somebody had to have the job of getting the supplies to the troops on the ground. Next was Brutal, hell of a nickname, but he had been a grunt in the Independent Army. He was not all that bright, but she would not choose another person if she got into a tights spot that needed some extra muscle. Grace sat next to Brutal; good with almost any kind of mechanical piece of tech she came across and another girl from a rich family that had not agreed with her parents dictates during the war. Last was Angela, a little cuckoo most of the time and a handful. She was how they all had met; her life had been the catalyst by which they had joined together. Melanie just did not like it when those with a more of whatever chose to force themselves on those deemed weaker.

Now, here they all were and waiting on somebody none of them had met, but she had trusted Samuel McCreedy that the information was right on. Nine P.M. and no Watson though, and the message had been nine o’clock sharp. Melanie would give the man some time however before getting everybody up and calling it a night. Time was something they had plenty of at the moment, but they needed cash, and for that, they needed work.

Then the questions came. After a few moments, she answered, “No, he’s probably not just late Grace. I was told nine o’clock sharp, and that’s supposed to be on the money. Supposedly this guy hates being late more than he hates Alliance. And no Angela, you’re not the only one who doesn’t know him, none of us do. I don’t know much about his need of a crew, I didn’t get any specifics in the matter. I did though, get told that the pay would be good.”

Melanie just wondered what could be keeping the man. Hopefully nothing that would cost the group half a thousand credits apiece.

So they ended up in a bar... Well, he'd heard stories about bar fights. He hadn't been in one, but he was told he'd be pretty good at it. Fair enough. He made sure to run the drinks from the bar to the table for everyone, serving the ladies first.

Phil was drinking tea. It was a weird choice for a guy his size, but he never did like the taste of alcohol. He didn't grow up with the constant parents over his shoulder telling him he couldn't have it, so it didn't have the forbidden fruit appeal. He tried it once and hated it. He drank tea because he had been told it was a 'girly' drink and that was exactly what he was going for: girls.

He sat down in the seat that was left, and it put him right next to Grace. He immediately asked if she could show him how she fixed the juke box and was genuinely intrigued by the conversation, clearly not understanding a single word. Girls are so awesome.

He took note of the contact not being there when it was mentioned. He had gotten good at noticing things but didn't always understand their meanings. He waited for an order, and, not receiving one, continued asking questions about how the juke box worked.

OOC: Okay, since Brutal was ever really in the game, we will just move forward as if Phil was always in the party. You can read his background in the Q&A, but he is a basically a big uneducated farmboy who has had a stretch of bad luck in life. If you really need me to re-write the background I can.


Hera, Gambler’s Gully, Outside the Ace in a Hole, 9:05 pm
Xi put in his earwig comm and spoke quietly, “Ready Steve?”

“Uh-huh.” Steve’s murmur came loud and clear.

“Andy?”

“Yeah.”

“Mick?”

“Ok”

“Alright, fellas, Let's go.” Xi adjusted his jacket and looked up and over to Billy at his side, “You stay here.”

“Why ain’t I going with you?”

“He expects me to be alone. You stand out in a crowd, and I’d prefer not to have anyone killed if I can help it.”

“I’ll watch the door then”

“You do that. Watch the door closely but don’t shoot the door or anyone coming out of the door, unless I tell you.”

“Right Boss.”

“Steve? Is he in there?”

“Yeppers Boss. Looking right at him. Got three women with him and some dumb looking bruiser of a kid.”

“Three Women? And another coming? Gorram it! How’s he do it?”

“Don’t know boss. One’s hot, one’s young and one looks like she’s tripping.”

“Right. No one moves without my say so. This has to go right or we don’t get paid.”

Hera, Gambler’s Gully, Inside the Ace in a Hole, 9:05 pm
Jeremiah Kane looked at his multiband and looked around the bar. He hated waiting and this felt wrong. Watson should had been here by now. Finishing his drink and for lack of anything to do, Kane got up and walked over to the bar, thinking about ordering another.

A man entered the bar, Asian by descent, short with brown hair and a scar on the left side of his face under the eye. He looked around briefly and then locked a stare directly at Kane. He moved towards him directly, but casually – certainly didn’t seem to be a danger of any sort. Watson was a medium set older man, Caucasian – so this wasn’t him. The short man stepped up to the bar beside Kane.

“I have the disk. Crane.” He says quietly but close enough to Kane’s ear so he can hear, “And you made the payment nice and prompt – I like that. Shows respect. I brought a viewer with me so you can check the merchandise. What’s with the new crew?” he asked jerking a thumb at the table where the others looked on, “I thought you were happy with the blonde?”

At the table, Phil asked out loud, “Who’s that guy? Is that Watson?”

Mel shook her head, “No. No idea who he is.”

“What does he want with Kane?” Grace asked.

“He has a disk. Wants Kane to look at it. Seems to believe we paid him for it.” Angela answered while staring at the two men.

“You can hear them?”

“No. His lips speak. He wants to know if Kane is happy with a blonde.” She replied absently.

Hera – Gambler’s Gully, Ace in the Hole Saloon. 9:05 pm Saturday
Kane looked at his multiband and around the bar his trained eye picking up no apparent threats for the moment. Tzao gao he hated waiting and this felt just wrong in a lot of ways, Mel’s Johnson character should had been here by now.
Seeing his free drink was empty Kane got up and causally moved to the bar to order another.

Reaching the side of the bar facing the door, Kane got the attention of the bar tender and gave his order.

“Qing zai lai yi bei Ng-Ka-Pei?”

As he waited his attention was drawn to the main entrance to the bar as a man entered.

Asian by descent, short with brown hair and a scar on the left side of his face under the eye. He looked around briefly and then locked a stare directly at Kane. He moved towards him directly, but casually – certainly didn’t seem to be a danger of any sort. Watson was a medium set older man, Caucasian – so this wasn’t him. The former ship captain and resistance fighter was more then a little surprised when the short man stepped up to the bar beside him.

“I have the disk. Crane.” He says quietly but close enough to Kane’s ear so he can hear, “And you made the payment nice and prompt – I like that. Shows respect. I brought a viewer with me so you can check the merchandise. What’s with the new crew?” he asked jerking a thumb at the table where the others looked on, “I thought you were happy with the blonde?”

What the guay ??

“ Long story there, just wanted a better crew to handle the merchandise. You can never be too careful. So lets see the viewer”

(Holding out his left hand he casually keeps his right hand near his big .44 Python)
Hera – Gambler’s Gully, Ace in the Hole Saloon. 9:05 pm Saturday

So far, not so good. He was late by five minutes already, and people were starting to get a little restless, especially Kane. The man had already finished his drink and though none of them really had the cash for extras, he strode up to the bar to refill it. Melanie understood they needed a job badly or they would have to sink to more dire measures, and the woman hated thievin and the like, preferred the honest sort of work. Lettin those who depended on her starve, though, was not an option.

It was an asian man that came up to Kane at the bar; Melanie didn't recognize him but was curious to see if her counterpart did. Curiousity though was known to kill cats, and she was not about to become a cat. The not havin the whole nine lives part was part of it, but it was more of the fact that her common sense that overrode her curiousity.

At the table, Phil asked out loud, “Who’s that guy? Is that Watson?”

Mel shook her head, “No. No idea who he is.”

“What does he want with Kane?” Grace asked.

“He has a disk. Wants Kane to look at it. Seems to believe we paid him for it.” Angela answered while staring at the two men.

“You can hear them?”

“No. His lips speak. He wants to know if Kane is happy with a blonde.” She replied absently.

"A blonde," Mel chuckled,"they're overrated." A thought ran through her mind. "You three stay here, and I mean it. Let me try something."

Melanie strode up to the bar without waiting for anyone to suggest otherwise on what she said. She hated complaints and generally tended to know how to get things done. Without waiting for the two men to discuss things to much, Kane had already spoken back to the man, she nuzzled up to his back and draped her right arm over his shoulder while slouching down on him to wrap her left around his midsection.

"Is this why you came here to do business tonight baby, is this the guy with the disc?" Melanie spoke in a voice that was lazy and disinterested, hopin Kane would play along before lookin at the Asian. "Red is oh so much better than blonde, don't you think?"

The last comment was meant to perhaps throw this new guy off balance.

(One thing, mel's handgun is in a drop leg holster, more on her thigh than hip, just thought I'd put in that correction even though it is more rp purpose than anything else.)

Phil wasn't really keeping up with the conversation. As far as he could tell their contact had arrived...or, if it wasn't their contact, it was good enough. That satisfied him. He hoped the meet went well. He wanted to eat sometime soon.

He watched as the man spoke to Kane, and Mel got up from the table. "You three stay here, and I mean it. Let me try something.

As if she had to be firm about it. He knew what his part was. Do what the girls tell me and everything will be fine. It had worked this long. It had to keep working. But then the other two girls he was with. Maybe that's why she said it like that. Grace and Angela weren't the types to stay put. Grace would often get distracted by shiny metal objects, and Angela...well Angela liked to forget. Well, actually, he didn't imagine she liked it all that much, but it tended to happen often.

Maybe that's why she was firm. She was saying to watch over them. Well, that made sense, but she didn't have to ask. He'd do it anyway. They were girls after all. The three of them were all he ever thought about. He'd even named his weapons after them. Well, if it came down to a dangerous situation, he was ready.

Angela brushed her wild tangle of brown hair out of her eyes and shifted in her seat. She wanted stronger coffee but didn’t have the credits for the really good expresso she could smell. She could hear Phil and Grace talking about how the jukebox worked (Grace was doing most of the explaining, and Phil mostly listening with admiration) but she knew that was something she didn’t have to know.

She was surprised by the certainty of that impression, and closed her eyes a moment to ponder why she’d think something wasn’t necessary. Poking at the thought was like prodding a sore tooth with your tongue, though, and she opened her eyes again to track a man approaching Kane at the bar with purpose. Something in her tightened into watchfulness, her expression hardening, but then loosened again as the man seemed to do little more than talk with Kane. She watched their conversation as it was something to do.

When the others started talking amongst themselves about what was happening, Angela murmured the gist of the conversation to them, vaguely surprised that they couldn’t see the words for themselves. It wasn’t as if Kane or the other man were hiding their mouths or anything. She did wonder if she’d forgotten about the blonde, and she itched to haul out her notebook and double-check, but something told her to be inconspicuous and not make any sudden moves.

Melanie clearly didn’t feel the same way. "You three stay here, and I mean it. Let me try something." She ordered, and Angela felt the hardness in her slackening as Melanie strode over to join Kane and the stranger. Angela still watched, but she’d placed her hands on the table where they could be seen, and she sat up straight, like a schoolgirl in class. She’d been given a clear order, and Angela was a good girl; she always listened.

Hera – Gambler’s Gully, Ace in the Hole Saloon. 9:05 pm Saturday
“ Long story there, just wanted a better crew to handle the merchandise. You can never be too careful. So lets see the viewer”
The words were out of his mouth before he realized the possible problem with the man doing just that here at the bar, but to take him back to the table could be even worse if someone, Angela, Grace called him by his real name.

He was saved from making that choice for the moment by an arm over his shoulder, the feel of a very, very curvaceous female body and Mel’s voice, lowered into a sexy yet lazy and disinterested tone, beside him.
Wuh de ma.
"Is this why you came here to do business tonight baby, is this the guy with the disc. Red is oh so much better than blonde, don't you think?"

“Yeah baby it is” Turning first to her to give her a light kiss on the cheek then back to the Asian man he introduced Mel, hoping she would pick up on his hint of his mistaken ID by the man before them both.

“This here’s the new Mrs Crane, what say we get a separate table as the other‘s don‘t need to know all the details right now until I‘ve made sure everything is accounted for.”

Hera – Gambler’s Gully, Ace in the Hole Saloon. 9:05 pm Saturday

Grace sipped her drink and spoke quietly to Phil. She could guess that he didn’t under stand so she made it a little simpler to understand then go straight into mechanic speak. A couple of times running her finger through her red hair. It was longer then she liked but she couldn’t do much about it. She watched Kane go to the bar to refill his drink. Getting bored she looked around the bar again.

That when the man entered. Asian by descent, short with brown hair and a curious scar on the left side of his face. Grace frowned at the sight of him. She had a bad feeling about him. She watched him walk up to Kane. She spotted Kane putting his hand on his gun. Not good she thought.

At the table, Phil asked out loud, “Who’s that guy? Is that Watson?” Grace glanced at him with annoyance of the volume of his voice

Mel shook her head, “No. No idea who he is.”

“What does he want with Kane?” Grace asked. She kept her eyes on the strange man.

“He has a disk. Wants Kane to look at it. Seems to believe we paid him for it.”
Angela answered quietly

“You can hear them?”

“No. His lips speak. He wants to know if Kane is happy with a blonde.” She replied softly

"A blonde," Mel chuckled, “they’re overrated." Grace gave a slight nod in agreement. "You three stay here, and I mean it. Let me try something."

Grace freezes her face so she wouldn’t scowl. As Mel walk to Kane, Grace scowled. What do you mean stay put? I can help! She thought. She studies the new guy. If he was trying to do a deal or is a threat, he would have some allies. Unless he was a Buhn Dahn. Grace shifted so it looked like she was just stretching. She was really looking for anyone who might be keeping an eye on them.