When Willow finally arrived in the cargo hold, Ash took up his normal position, beside and a step behind her, giving her a complementary whistle.

“Lookin’ mighty pretty, Miss Willow,” said the Lad, as he adjusted the athletic bag’s strap across his chest. “Yer sure t’ make heads turn at the party.” He smiled. He was excited about the party. Dance with some pretty local girls… maybe even with Miss Willow.
As the cargo bay doors open, Asher was stunned by the sight and sound before him. Wow! All this party for some ice? I love these people!
It was about then that the brass band petered out, and the people, obviously disappointed at what they saw, dispersed.

“Hey! Hey!” Ash said to the people. “Don’t go! We just got here! We’re nice folks! Promise! I’ll put the guns away! See! We can still party together!”

Turning to the others, “We’re nice folks, right? Cap’n, go on and tell ‘em were nice folks who just like to party.”

But the people left. Ash watched as a couple of men went so far as to haul off the podium and speaker. The lad sighed. Sad…
An older gentleman comes up to them, “I’m Bailey. Bailey Sackett.” He says offering his hand to shake. He introduces himself to each of you, making sure he gets your name right. He looks around and says loudly, “You must be the people with the CONTAINERS. Them CONTAINERS that belong to the mining guild, wouldn’t that be correct?”

“Good day to you, Bailey Sackett,” piped up Miss Willow. “I’m Willow Takahara and yes, we have a delivery for you. This is Captain Sung, I’ll let him introduce the crew as is proper.” Wow, she was good…
Wyatt gave a nod and scanned their surroundings once more, “Yup, Sackett. We’re the crew with the shipment. Now, if’n you don’t mind showing us where we’re supposed to unload this cargo and get paid, I’d be right obliged.”

As introduction went around, Ash gave the man a simple nod and tipped his hat, “Ash, sir.”

The others continued their conversation, while Ash kept his eyes and ears on their surroundings. In the distance, he could hear gunshots and laughter coming from the town. Reminded him a bit of Ezra.

And that didn’t make the lad feel good.

It was Bailey’s closing words of warning that sealed it for him. “This here is a lawless place. We gots no sheriff or lawman around here so it is best you keep to your irons, and an eye on your women, catch my meaning?”

When the man had left, and as the Cap’n made decisions on what to do while they waited, Ash piped up with a question, “If it’s okay, Cap’n, wouldja mind much if I stayed behind here with the Roc? I don’t like much in the way of how Bailey described this piece of dirt. Reminds me too much of home.”

The lad paused for a moment. “I’d like to stay back and keep Ma company, if you don’t mind. I know she can handle Bessy and all, but I’d just feel better if one of us stayed back here with her, you know.”

“Besides…” Ash said with a smirk. “I got to grapple a bit last time we hit atmo. And I’d hate to have Dash all hating me when the school marm passed him over for someone with a bigger gun.”

OOC: I'm going to be away on business starting next Wednesday until the 20th. But that's not why I have Ash requesting to stay with the ship... my gut sense when I read Al's post was that Ash would be concerned for Trish. Regardless, this could work out real well.

Wyatt made no apologies for Sam's behavior in response to the news that the school marm was hitched. He was too busy mulling over the fact that the school marm was dealin'. With a nod to Bailey, the captain watched the man retreat about his business.

"Well, it don't make much sense to hang around here when we got pay waiting for us elsewhere, now does it?" Sung glanced back at Rocinante and received Ash's request to stay behind with a nod. "Would make sense. That whole commentary on the Law bein' absent is as good as it is bad for what we do. Law tends to keep people civil and casts shadows big enough for the likes of us t' work in. Keep a radio on, Ash, an' be ready for anything. These things never go smooth and I'm fresh outta four leaf clovers."

That said, Wyatt gave the kid a pat on the shoulder and turned to begin walking down the street, Willow on his arm, his hat low, and hopefully cutting an intimidating figure.

"Keep an eye out Dash," he offered after a few steps. "If this JW has government connections, an' we was mistaken for his transport as I gathered from Bailey, then he's just as likely t' have enemies. Last thing we need is us gettin' jumped an' humped while we make for the school."

“If it’s okay, Cap’n, wouldja mind much if I stayed behind here with the Roc? I don’t like much in the way of how Bailey described this piece of dirt. Reminds me too much of home.

I’d like to stay back and keep Ma company, if you don’t mind. I know she can handle Bessy and all, but I’d just feel better if one of us stayed back here with her, you know.”

Kid’s skittish, Dash mused as he turned his eyes in Ash’s direction, Can’t say’s I blame ‘im…
“Besides…” Ash said with a smirk. “I got to grapple a bit last time we hit atmo. And I’d hate to have Dash all hating me when the school marm passed him over for someone with a bigger gun.”

“Kuh ai. Gun ni jwo lu, di-di,” Dash chuckled, nudging Ash with an elbow, “Get yer ass in there an help Ma knit some socks er somethin’!”

Wyatt affirmed his approval of the Kid staying with the ship, sealing it up with a pat on Asher’s shoulder before offering his elbow to Willow. "Keep an eye out Dash," he offered after a few steps. "If this JW has government connections, an' we was mistaken for his transport as I gathered from Bailey, then he's just as likely t' have enemies. Last thing we need is us gettin' jumped an' humped while we make for the school."

“Preachin’ t’ th’ choir, Cap,” Dash replied, “If it looks ta be trouble comin’ our way, it’s kilt ‘fore it knows it’s here.”

Willow was surprised for a moment at Asher’s decision to stay behind, but when she thought it through, it made sense. If this place was as wild as Sackett warned, then it may be too painful for Asher to see the ghosts of his home all around him. Willow touched his cheek fondly and murmured,” Keep the Roc and Trish safe for us, dear.”

Sung offered his arm and Willow took it after opening a paper parasol to shade her skin from the sunlight. She kept closer to the Captain than she normally would, and said in a conversational manner,” I think it would be a good idea if I looked like I “belonged” to someone, rather than an unattached woman, if this place is a free-wheeling as it looks. Can you bear my attentions for a day, Captain-San or shall I be Dash’s woman for now? You may need to do the talking here, and I’ll interject brainlessly if necessary,” she concluded with a wink.

It was something he was only too familiar with; pretending Willow was more than attached to his arm as they made heir way through a rough portion of this city, that bordertown, or the rare Alliance outpost. There was nothing sexual about their play either. Wyatt Sung was a man still very much in love with his dead wife and more than slightly devoted to the marriage they'd once shared. His nod of acceptance and the pat he placed on the hand Willow rested on his arm was warm, like that of an older brother. Where Sam joked about sexual relations with the doctor and Ash lkely dreamt about them, Wyatt's attention was solely that of a protective older brother. Right then, the protective older brother's role meant keeping others from thinking the beautiful little Asian available for debasing catcalls, commentary, and most of all: unwanted advances. They played the content couple so well that they were often mistaken for having been married for years when their charade was in action.

This, of course, did not mean that Captain Sung did not present the image of a dangerous man as he calmly strolled down the dirty street with a beauty on his arm and a hired gun at his side. He was armed for bear, carried himself confidently and assuredly, while the look in his eye that spoke promises of a very violent end should the observer be so bold as to interfere with their progress kept people at bay (hopefully).

Frisco 11:00 AM RST
Wyatt, Willow and Sam strolled down the streets of Frisco on their way to the schoolhouse. They passed under the gravitic lifter track of the Magrail and passed by the building signed as the Transport station – Frisco. An older woman wearing a tattered gingham dress and a old style conductor’s hat is entering the station as you pass by. You observe that for a grandmotherly type of woman, she’s wearing a sawed off shotgun on her back in a leather quick draw rig. The hat tells you she must work there and the gun says she don’t put up with trouble.

Behind the Transport station is the Port Authority signal tower, tall and straight. It rises over twenty feet to a control tower room at the top. Single ladder bolted on to the tower is the only access to the control room.

On your left is “Tom Loughney’s Saloon and Oyster Parlor”, according to the hand painted sign outside the building. Not really a building as much as it is a dugout with a front entrance structure. Oysters in a desert, seems rather odd to you. As to the saloon part, you see a man lies on the ground outside the building, sleeping in the dirt. The smell is booze and urine is strong enough to reach your noses as you pass by.

Taking the route fastest to the school, you split off the main room and follow the pathway to your left. As you approach a livery stable just on your left, you see some men ahead of you, whooping and hollering. There are four of them, ruffians all - unshaved louts that you see all over the verse, living day to day on their wits and their guns.They are dressed in long coats and flannel shirts, armed with revolver pistols that look like dime store specials. Three of the men are pushing a man between them like he was a playground ball. As you approach, you realize the man is oriental, balding except for wisps of white hair and dressed in white robes of a priest. His eyes are completely white and he stumbles around as he is pushed between the men – you realize he is completely blind.

The fourth man is holding an oriental girl, who is crying out in Cantonese “//Please leave my Grandfather alone. He can’t see!//”

“Well maybe if you distracted us from the fun we are having with grandpa, bao bay, then maybe we could let him go” The man drawls to the girl, making free with his hands. “If you can keep us all entertained that is.”

The girl twists away from him and strikes him with a hard slap across the face – hard enough to make his head turn and he staggers back. His malicious grin changes instantly to a snarl.

"You gonna pay for that jien hwo!” he says, drawing a long knife from a sheath at his side.


Fenris had made his way into town from the bunkhouse and was about to turn down the main street towards the Frisco Port Authority when a group of people caught his attention. The hat and cost looked like Captain Wyatt and he recognized Sam Dash even from this distance. He didn’t know the lady holding on to the captain’s arm but kora had mentioned a lady doctor on board by the name of Willow. It looked like they were close to the livery stables so he could catch up with them.

Wyatt sighed heavy-like and gave Willow another pat on the arm at the altercation taking place before them. "Best be fading' t' one side 'r the other Willow." His tone was dry and tired. If there was one thing that got his goat more than anything it was the mistreatment of good people. In this case good people meant the ones being picked on.

Once Willow had moved aside, or before any harm could come to the girl, Wyatt says, "Ain't it something', Sam, how it don't matter what piece I' dirt we settle on there're always low down, mangy rats that need exterminatin'?"

And if that ain't enough to draw their attention away from the old man and the girl, Wyatt'll say, "Hey! Ugly! Lay off or I'll break ya."

(OOC: Likely a trap, so Wyatt's ready to draw quick if necessary. He'll try not to kill anyone if he can avoid it, but he's not about to let things get out of hand.)

Willow had been content to walk on Sung’s arm, smiling at him like a besotted good-time girl for any observers, and feeling Dash’s eyes on her silk clad behind. Truth be told, she may have wiggled her bottom more than the constricting kimono required just because it felt good to be alive and desirable while walking in the sunlight. Maybe this trip would be a turn in their luck, and they could actually have a little fun.

The scene before her dashes those hopes, and Willow found herself shifting from silly girlfriend to haughty Companion, her expression cooling as she held herself taller and straight-backed. Problem was, these sorts weren’t the type to respect any authority, particularly one as indirect as the Companion’s Guild.

"Best be fading' t' one side 'r the other Willow," Wyatt interrupted her thoughts with a world weary tone, and she knew he’d shifted, too, from simply looking dangerous to being dangerous. She let go of his arm and sidled off to the side, her expression changing again to a disgruntled pout.

"Ain't it something', Sam, how it don't matter what piece I' dirt we settle on there're always low down, mangy rats that need exterminatin'?" Wyatt asked almost conversationally, before raising his voice to penetrate the cloud of stupid mingling with the road dust.

"Hey! Ugly! Lay off or I'll break ya."

Dash’s attentions had, so far, been divided between scanning the streets and buildings around them – keeping his senses sharp for any indication of trouble coming their way – and watching the switch and sway of Willow’s silk-clad behind – imagining that the skin concealed beneath was likely smoother and softer than any of the fine fabrics that ever had the good fortune to be draped across it. With Dash, though, the outward reactions to the promise of a tussle or a grapple were practically one in the same; a sly grin, a quirk of a brow, a drifting of the hand towards the belt, and a lick of the lips (to moisten them when the dry-mouth of combat sucked it out and, with the other, to mop the anticipatory excess from them). As often as he performed the latter in Wil’s presence, though, both he and she knew that there’d likely never come anything of it… Not without a proper invite, no how… regardless of how much he ‘joked’ about it or how many times the lovely Doc hinted that the possibility may, one day, present itself. Aside from the fact that Willow Takahara was an entire ‘Verse out of a Joo bah jeh like Sam Dash’s league, the scruffy pilot had come to think of her more as family than anything else… Gorram delicious, we’s only third cousins, family, fer sure but family nonetheless.

“Please, leave my grandfather alone! He can’t see!” The pleading trill of Cantonese snatched his attentions away from Willow’s backside and directed them towards the circle of yokels who seemed to have found what they likely called fun in the form of a blind Sheppard and his granddaughter.

“Best be fadin’ t’ one side ‘r th’ other, Willow,” Wyatt murmured as Dash, brows raised beneath his bandana, took in the scene. The Doc, of course, gracefully stepped to the left and Sam wasn’t long in filling the void she’d left at the Captain’s side.

“Ain’t it somethin’, Sam,” Wyatt continued, loud enough that – if they weren’t stupid or deaf – the ruffians couldn’t have not heard it, “how it don't matter what piece I' dirt we settle on there're always low down, mangy rats that need exterminatin'?”

“Uh-huh,” Dash nodded, his hand moving deliberately to the butt of his own revolver and not hesitating in the least to slide the iron from its holster, “Gorram shame, too, as them rats don’t never seem ta get smart enough ta stop bringin’ knives ta gunfights.”

One of the biggest motivators behind him going on the dodge from the Allaince had been the fact that innocents always seemed ta get hurt before the wicked and deserving did and, once he’d come to that realization and set his plan in motion, he’d made a promise to himself and whatever ‘fuzzy wuzzy’ as might be on high that, if he could help it, he’d never see that happen again. It don’ get much more innocent than a Sheppard an’ a li’l girl, now, do it?
“Hey! Ugly! Lay off or I’ll break ya!” Wyatt’s voice boomed as Dash lifted the Avenger to target the fella with the knife.

Dash licked his lips… his mouth had gone dry… then a mirthless grin curled his lips. “If'n I was you, I’d cotton ta what th’ man sez, hump-face,” he sneered, “Cuz I’ll do more’n break ya!” His freehand moved subtly towards a jacket pocket where one of the flashbangs awaited.

((OOC: If the goons make a move to do anything other than high-tail it outta there, Dash starts shootin’… ))

Fenris was a cortex hacker, had been pretty much his whole life, and he had made a good bit of change until he was busted at 15 by alliance forces, damn near at the start of the war as a matter of fact he thought with a grimace. No happy memories there as he spent most of his youth in jail, though one good thing he learned to make prison his education. He learned engines, security systems, and best of all how to fight for what he wanted. A hard lesson learned in pain and blood that you sometimes have to fight to survive.

With the end of the war Fenris or Wolf as he had been nicknamed in prison was processed and set free. But with his freedom came a whole new set of problems as his criminal record haunted him and as such he was forced to take whatever work he could get most of them illegal as hell.

He’d had his chances to better his life, heck Sam Dash had intro'd him to Tink, helped him scourge up the cash for a new ID, had even offered him a job with Captain Wyatt, but dumb A** him had turned it down.
Fenris could not help thinking to himself as he walked down the street of Frisco what had truly brought him here
you came here on promises of a paying job, a house and a new beginning. Well s**t that sure as hell had not worked out well had it. Christ your living with miners for frag’s sake
Now with the mine slowed to a crawl due to the embargo. Fenris was pretty much going nowhere, even though he did have a room, it was no where near the house he had come here for in the first place. But it was not all bad he supposed he was working doing repair work on the compressors for the mines for his employer Bailey Sachet, yet he so wanted away from here and the thrill of adventure he had never really known in his life.
And maybe with Kora’s heads up that Dash and Captain Wyatt were here on Frisco for business and needing a mechanic he could gain a second invite that this time he would not turn down. But no matter what he was getting off this rock hopefully in the next few days.

As he made his way towards the Frisco Port Authority a group of people caught his attention. The hat and coat looked like Captain Wyatt and he recognized Sam Dash even from this distance. He didn’t know the lady holding on to the captain’s arm but Kora had mentioned a lady doctor on board by the name of Willow. Damn Fenris thought she is a looker and could not help but wonder if she and the Cap’n were a hook up. It looked like they were close to the livery stables so he was sure he could catch up with them.

Not wanting to yell their names in a place like this he hurried to catch up....

OOC: As you can see pretty much just a recap of his background at the moment will post more once he catches up to the others.)

"Ain't it something', Sam, how it don't matter what piece I' dirt we settle on there're always low down, mangy rats that need exterminatin'?"

“Uh-huh,” Dash nodded, his hand moving deliberately to the butt of his own revolver and not hesitating in the least to slide the iron from its holster, “Gorram shame, too, as them rats don’t never seem ta get smart enough ta stop bringin’ knives ta gunfights.”

And if that ain't enough to draw their attention away from the old man and the girl, Wyatt'll say, "Hey! Ugly! Lay off or I'll break ya."

The three amigos stop shoving the old man around, letting him fall dizzily at their feet. They put hands on pistols, ready to defend against these … interfering types.

The man with the girl is clearly confused. People normal keep moving by them, not wanting to get themselves involved. But these two …

Moments pass like eternity between the ticks of a clock. “Mind your own business Stranger! Or you’ll find it cut off!” he snarls at you, seemingly unaware of the mixing of metaphors. He reaches for the girl, probably thinking to use her as a shield against Wyatt and Sam. As he reaches though, the girl kicks him. Not the kicks of a martial artist, or a street fighter taught to attack with deadly force. It is the high swift kick straight up of a dancer. She nails him square in the nose and follows up with another kick, to the exact same place. Blood pours from his nose as the girl cries out in terror and turns to run towards Wyatt and Willow, hiding behind them.

‘AHHH! My nose! Gorram it! My nose!” he drops his knife and clutches his nose in agony, trying to stem the bleeding. The other three start to laugh at him, then remember that they are supposed to be looking intimidating at you and seem embarrassed.

It is an awkward moment now. They obviously don’t want to fight you and the one of them might need some medical attention. ‘What she do that for?” the bleeding man whines, “We’s just having some fun.”

The gravel crunches behind you and you urn your head enough to see another man approaching. Wyatt and Sam recognize Fenris Apollo and nod a greeting before turning three attention to the ruffians.

Then, from around the side of the stables come running five men, all oriental dressed in black. They are armed with pistols on their sides, double machetes on their backs, while three carry shotguns and two have rifles. Four more come running around the other side of the stables, similarly armed. They look have the look and demeanor of Tong thugs and they are moving to surround all of you.

OOC: Tong are similar to Chinese Triad or the Mafia. Organized crime syndicates organized around families.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Dash’s grin widened and his thumb moved to cock back the hammer of his pistol as three of the turd-wranglers reached for their guns, “not a jing chai move, boys!”

“Mind your own business, stranger,” the goon who had recently been ‘wooing’ the girl snarled, “Or you’ll find it cut off!”

Dash cast a mildly amused, sidelong glance at Wyatt; “Seems this’n can’t make up ‘is mind, Cap. First he’s gropin’ th’ girl an’ now he’s wantin’ ta fondle our ‘business.’ What th’ hell kinda rock is this, anyhoo?”

Seeing as how all four of the hoodlums had seen fit to ignore both his and Wyatt’s warnings against it, Sam had just resigned himself to putting a plug in someone’s head when the little Chinese girl reacted to the hands that where reaching for her and shot a pair of quick and powerful kicks to the man’s nose before screaming in terror and rushing to hide behind Wyatt and Willow. The pilot’s eyes went wide and he joined the idiot’s cronies in snorting out his laughter. “Gorram, but that had ta hurt,” he chuckled, his whiskey-hued eyes flicking to the cowering girl for a second before he turned to check on the tell-tale crunching of gravel from behind them.

His smile broadened a bit when his gaze encountered a rather familiar face. “Ni how, Wolfy,” he nodded, leaving it at that for the time being and then turning to keep a bead on the ruffians.

“What she do that for,” the bleeding man was whining, “We’s just having some fun!”

“Yeah,” Dash sneered, “seems ta me as ya got a real humped up definition o’ fun, puhn yoh…” his gaze dipped to the still sprawling Sheppard; “…how’s about you bunch o’ s#!tbags beat feet fer th’ other side o’ town an’ I don’ show ya mine?”

He had started forward, intent on helping the old man to his feet and shooting anyone who tried to interfere when a group of black-clad Chinese – armed in a more serious style than the four hoods – came running from around one side of the stables.

“Whoa!” Sam wasn’t sure who to aim at all of the sudden. The appearance of the Tong thugs was just a little left of unexpected and the barrel of his Avenger danced from target to target even as the hand that had been in his jacket pocket to this point came out wrapped around a grenade. The stuation went from bad to worse as four more of the thugs appeared from around the otherside of the stables.

“Uh, Cap,” he drawled through clenched teeth, his weapon now skipping between more targets than he cared to count, “I dunno what kind o’ luck this’n falls under but, if I recollect, clear, we’s done past our three…”

((OOC: Okie doke… decided against throwing lead just yet… no sense in gettin’ geeked when we might still walk away with our skins whole. If the mi tian gohn gets thick, though, Dash will pop that smoker he just pulled from his pocket – hoping it’ll give them some soft cover for a second or two, then make a grab for the old Chinese fella, and cap whoever offers themselves up as a target… otherwise, waiting on the Cap’n or our lovely Doc to play politics. ))

As with everything in life, the more things change the more they seem to stay the same Fenris could not help but think to himself as he approached Dash and Cap’n Wyatt for the first time in years. Not even seen by the two as yet and already a fight had started out this involving a young girl and a high swift kick. The girl clearly no brawler yet with some skill nailed some guy square in the nose then quickly following up with another kick, to the exact same place mind you shattered the dude‘s nose damn good. As blood poured from his nose the girl cried out in fear and ran to Wyatt and the beautiful female, and hid behind them.

The gravel below Fenris betraying his approach, Wyatt and Sam looked behind them and it was with a sense of pride perhaps that the both of them recognized him with no need of an intro.

“Hiya Cap’n, Dash, long time, I see ya still saving them damsels in distress.”

Before any response or an intro to the Lovely Lady could be given things changed once again as from around the side of the stables came running five men, all oriental, dressed in black. They were armed with pistols on their sides, double machetes on their backs, while three carried shotguns and two had rifles. Then if that was not enough four more came running around the other side of the stables, similarly armed. They were as far Fenris could tell from his time on Frisco Tong thugs and they quickly moved to surround the 6 of them.

“Well Dash drawing a crowd like normal I see, damn but I have missed this.”

Fenris said with a smile, though armed with both his auto in his left hand and sawed off in his right hand, clearly they were outgunned. But having been so bored, for so long anything was better then repairing piss poor machines. Though not yet hired on as crew still to Fenris it felt good to be home....

When it came to a brawl, Willow’s best skill was staying out of the way, and she moved aside with an ease that was surprising, given the exact fit of the kimono she wore. She watched the preliminary exchange of insults with a wary look, knowing that blows or bullets were next.

Then the girl took matters in her own hands and decided she’d waited long enough for heroes. With a dancer’s high kick, the frightened girl struck the man reaching for her twice, before scuttling over to Willow and hiding behind her and Sung.

Willow held her arms out wide, letting the broad squares of her sleeves hang down and obscure the girl further. Looking over her shoulder at the frightened face peering up at her, Willow smiled the most encouraging smile she could muster, under the circumstances. “Well done, dear heart, you honour your grandfather with your courage. Give my fellows a moment more, and you’ll be on your way again.”

Willow looked back to the townsmen, who showed signs of crumbling, like most bullies when stood up to. “‘What she do that for?” the bleeding man whined, “We’s just having some fun.”

Dash replied with a string of curse words that would have made Usha faint dead away, but Willow had grown accustomed to it. She almost started to smile when she saw another man approach. She was about to say something when both Sung and Dash acknowledged him with nods, and Dash even went to far to greet him.

“Ni how, Wolfy,”

“Hiya Cap’n, Dash, long time, I see ya still saving them damsels in distress.” The stranger replied, and when the Tong men arrived to surround them, he continued.” Well Dash drawing a crowd like normal I see, damn but I have missed this.”

“Oh merciful Buddha,” Willow muttered to herself, “ more cowboys with a quip for every occasion. What does a girl have to do to get a strong silent type?”

Given town trash bullies and Tong, Willow preferred the Tong. They had at least discipline, and any foot soldiers like these had a bossman.

“So glad you could join us so quickly, gentlemen,” Willow declared smoothly, her arms still out to shield the girl behind her (for all the good silk could do as protection), “is it with us or these hooligans that you have business?”

Wyatt had said his piece already. Sam was more the type for witty banter. The captain of Rocinante was now standing ready to react in a most judicious way, though he'd yet to draw his weapon, when the girl let fly with those beautiful kicks. Still, the only thing to escape Wyatt's mouth at that point was an appreciative whistle despite the comical nature of the event.

Luck had removed her from the immediate equation.

When Wolf arrived, Wyatt offered a nod of recognition, but quickly returned his attention back to the thugs.

Luck had seen fit to show their replacement mechanic just where to encounter them and at just the right time.

That's when the Tong showed. Now Wyatt was unsure as of yet whether this was the Luck of Three playing out to their benefit, or if they'd just used up their last shiny penny, and since Willow had already engaged them in conversation, the Captain offered a simple, murmured, "We got the chance for one solid to bring us full circle and start the cycle over, Sam." Then he waited on the answer to Willow's question, his hand hovering near the Colt.