The Bank, 1:00-1:15 pm
As he crossed the street with Miss Brigit, Sam tried to get a bead on the men who were making him edgy. The two looking at axe handles were a scruffy pair, related in some way, most likely brothers. They both wore long dark dusters and wide brim hats with kerchiefs tied around their necks. Unfortunately, the jackets made it hard for Sam to see armaments, but both were moving their hands around freely so they didn’t have any long arms, or they were using the shortened type. The man he passed by the Mallory Saloon, doesn’t have a duster and San notes the twin revolvers on the man’s hips – modified colt specials that are common in the rim planets. The fourth man is further away, and leaning against and beside a support beam for the balcony, so Sam can’t get a look at what’s he carrying, but at least a pistol to be sure.

“Sam honey? You comin’? Like I said, we best hurry.” Brigit laughs freely, not aware of the danger she could be in at the moment.

As the two approach the bank, a hover car comes around the building and stops outside the bank. It is a basic hover-mule that has been stripped and “gussied up” to look like a stage coach. An old man is sitting in the driver’s seat, dressed in a three piece suit that was obviously tailored for someone much larger than him. Once he stops he presses horn on his wheel twice, causing a horn to make a low volume “Meep, Meep”

Brigit smiles at the man as you approach, “Hunt!? Is that you? I almost didn’t recognize you all dressed up like that.”

The old man beams and hooks to thumbs into his vest sleeves, “Good Afternoon, Miss Brigit. Miss Nora gave this to me. Said John don’t fit into anymore, so I could be havin’ it to keep.”

“Very nice. You look positively dashing, Hunt,” Brigit declares enthusiastically. “I take it then that Nora and John are still inside?”

“Yes Ma’am. Should be out soon as they’s be wanting to see JW, but you know Nora – fashionally late..”

Brigit smiles and looks over at Sam, “This is Sam Dash. Sam, this is old Hunt. Sam here is the pilot for the transport that landed early today.”

“Pleased to meet you Sam.” The old man says with a sincere smile and a nod.

(feel free to add conversation here)

As you are talking, a man exits from the bank. He is a big man, dressed in dark clothing and a full length leather jacket. When Sam looks to him, he feels something familiar about him, the face seems like he has seen it before. But if Sam knows the man, the man doesn’t know Sam as he passes by without so a nod of greeting. He does take in all of Sam’s weapons in a glance though, just as Sam takes in the dual pythons with 8 inch barrels, the combat knife in the left boot and the large bulge under his left arm denoting a oversized pistol of some sort in a shoulder holster. Just two jittery warriors noting each others equipment and passing each other without a qualm? He continues across the street and starts to talk to the man near Mallory’s.

Brigit pulls Sam’s arm, “Sam? Really now, you need to pay attention to your surroundings Mr. Dash. You supposed to be protecting me!” She says with that laugh again that makes him want to … well, want is the key word.

The bank is a three story red brick building, with two small windows on either side of a central door. The windows have bars on the inside of the glass. There is a wooden stairwell on the exterior of the building, leading up to a door on the second floor. Once you are inside, on your left is a large waiting room with two overstuffed arm chairs and a low table with a vase and some flowers within. At the back of the room are three evenly spaced teller windows, all of them glassed and barred as well. Only one is occupied, by a pointy nosed man, balding with a visor hat over his eyes.

To your right are two people. One of them is a short, pudgy man, balding with what little hair he has combed over to hide the lack of hair. He is looking at a pocket watch while listening to the other person. She is a very tall and strikingly beautiful woman. At least 5’ 10” tall, this brown hair beauty is dressing in a deep red silk dress, tailored to fit her hourglass shape and statuesque body. She is addressing the man when you enter.

“Really dear, You have a cream tart stain on your lapel.”

“Sorry Dear.”

Is it so much to ask you to take care of your clothing? You are a model citizen of this city!”

“Yes Dear. Sorry Dear.”

She sighs heavily, “Well, it will have to do, or JW will have vanished into one of the god forsaken …” She sees you entering and smiles. It is a cold smile, almost cruel, like that of a cat seeing another cat enter her territory. ‘Brigit. What are you doing here? I expected you would be on JW’s arm by now.” He eyes look to Sam with a significant look, “Another lost soul you are saving?”

“Nora dear. Always good to see you.” Brigit says in a tone that says Yi Dwei Da Buen Chuo Roh, “So daring of you to wear last year’s fashion when they are so out of style. This Is San Dash. He is the pilot of ship that brought the you know what for the miners. I have to give him the promised payment.”

“Really,” Nora purrs, “Was the Saloon all booked up?”

“”No Nora, but I’d thought you might need the room to advance your husband’s career.”

The two woman glower at each other and Sam decides to move away from the conversation and pull out his communicator and call the ship. He crosses over to one of the windows to keep an eye on the men outside. He can only see the two across the street and they have not moved.

(I will let Eol post his own call but I am assuming it is a “come quick, I need you”)

Once done, Sam turns back to see that Nora and her husband are leaving. Brigit is walking to the teller window. “Good Afternoon Morgan.” She smiles, “How are you today?”

“Doing well, Miss Brigit. If you wanted the credits to pay this man, I’m afraid I can’t help you. You know John…”

“That’s okay Albert.” She cuts him off, “We want to do a transfer of funds.” She looks over to you, “Could you come over here and give the man your code please Sam?”

Albert starts to type into his cortex terminal. He looks very perplexed. “I’m sorry Miss Brigit, but I can’t seem to get a connection to the cortex.”

“Oh? Is the cortex down?’

“No. I just did a transfer a few minutes ago. But now it is ….well it’s dead.”

Rocinante, 1:00 pm-1:15pm
Wyatt asked Fenris “You know who that water fountain was, an’ what business she might’ve had on my ship?”

Fenris watches the girl go, “I think that was Linda Kovak. She is one of three triplets so can’t be sure but she the one always trying to get herself off planet. Lulu can’t see without them bottle bottoms of hers and I don’t think Lulu ever cried or been sad in her life. Ain’t her nature. Linda was probably trying to convince one of yours to take her away and I’m guessing it didn’t work.”

With a shake of his head, the captain continued on to Rocinante and proceeded inside.

Wyatt stopped at the back door, hand on the access panel. “Got a description of the Ludlow that Miss Brigit took down, Wolf?” Wyatt’s tone was all business now

As Fenris rhymes off the description, he gets his confirmation and additional news as well, Ernest Ludlow has a brother on planet by the name of Ethan – just as bad and nearly as ugly.

Once inside you see that Asher and Trish are waiting in the cargo bay. Ahser is looking like he’s done nothing wrong and Trish, even though her face is covered by the hood, radiated disapproval.

(assuming some sort of crew conversation here. Asher with the ”I didn’t do nothing” and the like)

Waytt heads off to the Bridge after things settle down and people get back to their routines. As he fires up the console, he sees that the communication console is flashing. There are two wave messages received, one for Willow (coded) and one for Sam (double matrix coded with a sig key link).

(Your choice if you want to look at others mail. Sam’s is so locked tight you need to know the code to get into it to decode.)

As the captain is warming up the cortex terminal to sign in and look for information, the communication console activates on the short wave band. Sam’s voice comes through, although there is a lot of static in the background. You have to concentrate to get the message, but you do hear it (Whatever his message will be).

Outside the Bank 1:10-1:15 pm
“Did you plant it boss?” Jones asks as Ethan approached him.

“Yep. Now we wait until they leave and then hit the place. Jake and Elway ready?”

“Yep. What about that woman and the guy that just went in.”

“The girl’s are ticket. Grab her and we got a hostage no one will shoot at. The guy, he’s trouble.”

“Trouble?”

“Trouble with a capital T and that rhymes with B and that stands for Huem Dahn.”

“Huh?”

“Go tell the boys to watch him. He’s armed for bear and they ain’t for show. We move in, if the blast don’t get him, them we got to drop him fast. Shouldn’t be a problem, since he’s one guy.”

“What if he calls for help?”

“You injit! I planned a jammer. How’s he gonna call for help?”

“Oh yeah. Good thinking Boss.”

“That’s why I’m the boss and you ain’t, that’s for sure.” The two of them watched as the banker and his wife climbed abroad the hover vehicle and took off to the landing pads. “Okay. Go tell the brothers. As soon as I trigger the flash, we move in.”

In the Bank, 1:18 pm
“it was working fine then…”

BOOM!
The flower vase explodes with a very bright flash and a loud ear-splitting noise. Sam and Brigit are overwhelmed by the light and sound, and are stunned while knocked to the floor. The cortex box that Albert was working on overloads and explodes with a burst of electrical energy –engulfing the clerk who falls to the ground with a scream of pain.

As Fenris followed Wyatt up the ramp of the Rocinante it was hard to miss Linda Kovak as she came crying out of the loading bay. As he watched her run the Captain turned to him and asked.

“You know who that water fountain was, an’ what business she might’ve had on my ship?”

“I’m pretty sure that was Linda Kovak. She is one of three triplets so can’t be sure but she the one always trying to get herself off planet. Lulu can’t see without them bottle bottoms of hers and I don’t think Lulu ever cried or been sad in her life. Ain’t her nature. Linda was probably trying to convince one of yours to take her away and I’m guessing it didn’t work. Cap’n I know this may not be the right time but Linda’s not the bad sort and she wants a better one and trust me boss life here ain’t no picnic so maybe we can give her a lift off this rock. At least to our next planet fall I can find her maybe a clean up job in the engine room. Your call Cap’n.”

With a shake of his head, the captain continued on to Rocinante and proceeded inside. Wyatt stopped at the back door, hand on the access panel and again turned to the new mecanic

“Got a description of the Ludlow that Miss Brigit took down, Wolf?”

Fenris could tell no matter what Wyatt’s thoughts on the Kovak girl Fenris could tell by his tone he was all business now
Fenris told him no uncertain terms just what he knew and then added another thought.

“Cap’n there is one thing I’m not sure if you know this but Ernest Ludlow has a brother on planet by the name of Ethan – just as bad and nearly as ugly as the first. They are really a pair the two of them if everything rumored of them is true. They don’t have very many enemies…At least living enemies.”

With the last of the what Fenris thought was any needed info he followed Willow and Wyatt into the Rocinante for the first time.

(OOC: Ok Al as for Fenris’s further actions once inside the ship refer if needed to my other post before this one.)

“Sam, honey? You comin’,” Brigit’s sugared voice sawed Dash’s attentions away from scrutinizing the loose knot of men who seemed to be watching the bank, “Like I said, we best hurry.”

“Yeah,” Sam smiled - the anxious feeling in his gut twisting the expression into more of a grimace, maybe – as his eyes flicked back to the damn-fine schoolmarm. “Yeah,” he repeated, chancing one more quick sweep of the potential baddies before as he hurried his pace and tried to keep himself between Brigit and quickly figured fire-arcs from any one of the bad men’s weapons, “I reckon we best…”

“Meep-meep!”

Dash’s hand fell to the butt of his pistol when the coach modified mule came around the building, and the thing was a hair’s-breadth away from being drawn from the holster when the driver stopped in front of the bank and beeped the horn.

“Hunt!? Is that you,” Brigit beamed at the elderly driver, “I almost didn’t recognize you all dressed up like that.”

The sound of Dash’s avenger dropping back into its holster was muffled by the slightly shakey sigh that passed the pilot’s lips. Brigit’s recognition of the man had just saved him a bullet to the brainpan and, likely, saved Sam a visit to the local lawman’s pokey for opening up on the streets. Dash’s gaze swept back to check the positions of the men as Brigit made nice over the Coach driver’s hand-me-down suit.

“This is Sam Dash,” Brigit’s voice snatched his attentions again and brough his eyes back to her, “Sam, this is old Hunt. Sam here is the pilot for the transport that landed early today.”

“Pleased to meet you Sam.” The old man smiled, offering a friendly nod.

“Back at ya, Ol’ timer,” Sam nodded, a twitchy tinged grin curling up one corner of his mouth. “Right fetchin’ set o’ duds ya got there,” he added, noting that the man seemed to be a might proud of his ill-fitting formal wear. Baggy as it is, though, he managed not to say out loud, I reckon ya could crap yer pants an’ no one’d be the wiser til they got downwind of ya.
“Interestin’ skinjob on yer mule, too, puhn yoh,” Sam added, noting that the position of the mule might be good enough to provide some cover (and maybe a quick way to skin out) if things went south all the sudden, “Chauferrin’ the high-falootin’ types off to the shindig are ya?”

((Assuming some back and forth, etc))

Old Hunt had fallen easily into the conversation and seemed a nice enough guy, so Sam chit-chatted with him for a spell. Poor bastard prob’ly don’t get spoke to much other’n do this an’ do that, Sam figured.

Hunt was prattling on about when and how the old mule had been modified to look like a stagecoach when a big man, all wrapped up in dark clothes and leather, exited the bank; at that point Hunt’s jaw music might as well have been background noise. Sam still offered up the occasional albeit distracted ‘uh-huh’ or ‘hmm’ as the old man droned on but, from the moment he stepped into view, the leather-clad man had Dash’s full attention. There was something vaguely familiar about this one, Sam couldn’t quite place it but he was sure he’d encountered this man once or twice before.

Pythons Sam noted, his mouth suddenly gone dry, Heavy eights, both… where do I know you from, mister?..

Knife. Left boot, Dash’s eyes hardened a bit, realizing that this man’s knife was positioned the way it ought to be when one means to – and knows how to – use it, not the way some of these young, not-long-fer-livin’ greenhorns out in the Verse might’ve slung one for appearances. Yeah… I know you… wei shan (really dangerous) ain’t ya? Wish I could recollect yer name…
Then there was that obvious bulge under the man’s left arm; And there’s the equalizer, huh? Try as he might, Sam couldn’t keep his fingers from flexing or his arm from drifting so much closer to the Avenger’s grips than was sensible considering the proximity of civilians. Keep walkin’, puhn yoh, Dash warned subliminaly, where ever I knows ya from, here ain’t the place ta get reacquainted…keep walkin’. For the next few seconds those two words repeated like a mantra in Sam’s head, even as the man did exactly that… all the way across the street where he commenced to runnin’ his yap with the other shady type in front of Mallory’s.

Why do I feel like I shoulda just shot that man dead? Why don’t I jus’ do it now? Sam’s hips began to turn as his hand started to close on the Avenger’s grips…Juh shi suh mo go dohng shee?!
He had almost started reaching for the shotgun when he realized that it was Brigit who had a hold of his arm and was tugging his hand away from the pistol. “Sam?” She giggled in that way that stirred Sam’s nethers, even as he forced his gaze away from the leather coat and talked his free hand out of snatching the scattergun free, “Really now, you need to pay attention to your surroundings Mr. Dash. You’re supposed to be protecting me!”

Protecting me… Now, those words echoed in the pilot’s head and overran his jitters. Right… he blinked again, and then once more as he convinced the muscles in his arm to relax, Civilians…
“Sorry ‘bout that, Miss Brigit,” he grinned, playing off the reach for the shotgun by feigning an adjustment of his bandana, “Got distracted by the scenery, I reckon.”

Sam nodded a cordial farewell to Hunt before his still narrowed gaze panned, one last time, over the shady types and Mr Familiar. “Helluva place,” he muttered, letting his hand fall again to the small of Brigit’s back as he ushered her into the bank, “Guess we don’ wanna push these folks to the wrong side of fashionably late, does we?”

Once inside the three story, brick building, Dash took quick note of the entrances and possible exits, defensible positions that could be gotten to in a hurry, them folk as might not be able ta fend fer themselves if lead started flying, and places he might chase them off to if such a thing was to unfold. Seemed to be, now that Mr Familiar had stepped on down the street, that it was just the fussy couple (John and Nora, if he recollected the names Brigit had used) and some weevil-lookin’ teller were the only additional innocents he’d need to worry about outside the schoolmarm… Plus… but, secure as banks tended to be and as cramped as the quarters were, it might be a might tricky slingin’ iron and making sure the wrong folk didn’t get shot in the process… Minus…

“…Sam Dash. He is the pilot of ship that brought the you know what for the miners, I have to give him the promised payment.”

He heard Brigit introduce him and snapped his gaze in the direction of the obviously hen-pecked banker and his stunningly beautiful wife. “Folks,” he nodded.

“Really,” Nora purrs, “Was the Saloon all booked up?”

“”No Nora,” Brigit shot back, “but I’d thought you might need the room to advance your husband’s career.”

Ai ya, Sam grinned/grimaced, picking up the honeyed venom that was being passed between what had to be Frisco’s two finest females, this looks ta be a lot like throwin’ a coupla wet cats in a gunny sack. He took the opportunity presented by the women’s sparring to take a peek out one of the bank’s barred windows, tugging his handset communicator out of his jacket as he went.

“I sure’s hell hope one o’ ya’s got yer ears on,” Dash scowled into the communicator as he stepped towards the window to put eyes back on the sketchy group outside. He couldn’t get a bead on the big, bad wong bah duhn he’d sized up moments ago, and another one or two of them were out of sight as well, but the two directly across the street were still just where he’d left them and that didn’t set well in Dash’s gut. “I reckon I might’ve stepped inta a big pile o’ niou suh (cow poop) here at th’ bank. Got’s me a fistful o’ big damn bad men givin’ us the once an’ twice over. If’n ya can’t all come a-runnin’, at least send th’ Kid an’ his girlfriends, get me?

Might wanna go full burn on that, Roc, I’m gonna see if I can’t get the folks what’s left inside out… I’m gone quiet.”

Ending the transmission, Sam turned back to see that Nora and her husband were headed out and Brigit was sauntering toward the teller window. “Good afternoon, Morgan,” she smiled at the weevily teller, “How are you today?”

“Doing well, Miss Brigit,” the man replied, “If you wanted the credits to pay this man, I’m afraid I can’t help you. You know John…”

“That’s okay Albert.” Birgit interrupted, “We want to do a transfer of funds.

Could you come over here and give the man your code please, Sam?”

“Sure,” Sam nodded, his eyes flicking between the teller window and the front door as he strolled up. He nodded to the teller and rattled off the account number to which the haul from all of Rocinante’s jobs went prior to being divyed up among the crew (assuming anything was left to divvy after the essentials were accounted for, that is).

“I’m sorry Miss Brigit,” Albert puzzled after clacking away at his terminal for a moment, “but I can’t seem to get a connection to the cortex.”

Why don’t I likes the sounds o’ that?
“Oh? Is the cortex down?’

“No. I just did a transfer a few minutes ago. But now it is ….well it’s dead.”

BOOM!
Flashbang. We’re dog-humped! Sam thought just before the light and sound overwhelmed him and sent him off into and ear-ringing limbo, Gorramit! I know that sumbitc….

Plugging away on the cortex as he was, Wyatt felt his insides jerk about at the cackle Sam's message started with. Leaning forward, the captain nearly placed his ear against the speaker box in order to pick out the words. He wasn't halfway through with the message before he was up out of his seat and running back through the door of the cockpit, slamming the ship comm unit active as he rushed past it, and carrying the conversation into the hall.

"Asher! Git your kit, an' move like you're burning for atmo, son! Wolf, git on up to the mule, and fire 'er up. Sam might be in a fix, so we're goin' in hot! MOVE!"

Dropping the door to his room open, Wyatt used the rails to slide down into his chamber, boot heels hooked on the steel to provide support. He was still wearing his ballistic shirt, and his combat knife was still sheathed along with his Colt. Snatching his shotgun and sling from the wall, Wyatt turned and hoofed it up the ladder once more, leaving the door to his room open in uncharacteristic haste.

His boots clanged loudly on the steel grates as he pounded through the remainder of the front hall, hanging a quick left just before the galley to thunder down the stairs to the cargo bay. Before even reaching the bottom of the stairs, Wyatt hooked his hand and swung himself over the rail to proceed down the next flight without much of a pause. By the time he reached the mule, he had slung his shotgun over his shoulder and was retrieving his gloves from his jacket pocket.

"C'mon people!" he yelled, retrieving his personal, ship-linked handset from his other pocket and activating it. "We're on our way, Sam. What're we lookin' out fer exactly?"

Static returned driving concern deeper into Wyatt's chest. His expression, however, was calm, focused, and determined. As the others slid into their seats, Wyatt in shotgun position, he skinned his Colt and ran the weapon down his forearm, spinning the cylinder to make sure he was fully loaded. As the engines of the mule fired up, he slipped the weapon back in it's holster and lifted the shotgun from his back, cracking open the chamber and checking its load. This, he didn't return to the sheathe, but kept it on his lap as the yellow vehicle roared out of the cargo bay.

"Willow, Trish," Wyatt contacted the ship. "Lock down tight an' don't let no one in 'less I say as much, dohn-ma?"

Not waiting for confirmation, Sung turned to look at Fenris, unsure of this single entity, this wild card in his otherwise familiar hand. "To the bank, Fenris, an' don't be mindin' no speed limit neither.

"Asher, if the situation's humped be prepared t' do what's needed t' give us cover t' git Sam out. He's top priority, an' once we got 'im you folk better be ready t' skin out fast 'less I make the decision t' do otherwise. Now, I don't know what Sam's got 'imself into, an' I don't much care for collateral damage, but if'n it is necessary to get to Sam, you've my permission for it."

Returning his focus to what lay ahead, Wyatt set his jaw, peering at the grimy cityscape as it fled their gait from beneath his eyebrows.

(OOC: I'll use Leadership in this respect--Give everyone a +2 step to one die roll made in the endeavor to return Sam to safety.)

[OOC: Made an assumption here, Tann’Talas… hope it’s okay by you.]

[OOC: Sorry about the quality... I'm in a bit of a rush this weekend.]

The Captain had given Asher the responsibility of showing Wolf where around the Roc. They had been by his Wolf’s room already, and the Kid was just about the show the man the engine room when the Captain’s voice came bellowing over ship’s speakers.

"Asher! Git your kit, an' move like you're burning for atmo, son! Wolf, git on up to the mule, and fire 'er up. Sam might be in a fix, so we're goin' in hot! MOVE!"
Asher looked at Wolf, “Tour’s gonna have to wait.” Digging into his pocket, he tossed the new mechanic the keys to the mule before sprinting back to his room.

Quickly, the Kid grabbed his two bandoleers and crisscrossed them over his chest. A moment later, his athletic bag was opened up on his bed. He removed the Colt from his holster and strapped on his two Peacekeepers. Into the athletic bag, he placed his two Heckler Uzis with an extra magazine of ammo for each of them, along with a box of flash-bang grenades and a box of concussion grenades. Into the bandoleers, Asher quickly stuffed two magazines of extra ammo for his pistols, two extra magazines of ammo for the Justice Arms assault rifle, and two extra magazines for the JA Shotgun. Finally, the Kid scooped up the Justice Arms Assault Rifle from the rack, and slung it across his shoulder. Zipping up his athletic bag, he picked it up and made his way to the mule with as much haste as possible.

Climbing aboard the mule, Asher gave the Captain a grim nod, “Let’s get him back.”

As the mule pulled out of the ship, Asher fitted his bandoleers with two of the concussion grenades and two flashbangs from the athletic bag. The Captain explained the situation as best he knew it.

"Asher, if the situation's humped be prepared t' do what's needed t' give us cover t' git Sam out. He's top priority, an' once we got 'im you folk better be ready t' skin out fast 'less I make the decision t' do otherwise. Now, I don't know what Sam's got 'imself into, an' I don't much care for collateral damage, but if'n it is necessary to get to Sam, you've my permission for it."

“Understood, Captain.” Asher felt the tingly feeling of anticipation before a fight welling up. “Captain?” Asher passes a flashbang grenade up to Sung with a smile. “I brought extras for the party. Just make sure you’re not in the same room when that thing goes off.”

Reaching back into his bag, Asher passed one of the uzis and an extra magazine of ammo up beside Wolf. “If you and the Captain are going in alone, you may need the extra bullets.”

With that done, Asher brought the assault rifle down across his lap, checking the magazines on both the rifle and the shotgun to ensure they were fully loaded and not jammed.

The Cap’n once they had reached the ship had handed him over to the standing gunfighter, a kid really, named Asher. After intros were taken care of Fenris found himself being taken on a tour of the Rocinante. They had been by his room already with Fenris dropping off the small amount of gear he owned and the Kid was just about the show him finally the engine room when the Captain’s voice came bellowing over ship’s speakers.

"Asher! Git your kit, an' move like you're burning for atmo, son! Wolf, git on up to the mule, and fire 'er up. Sam might be in a fix, so we're goin' in hot! MOVE!"

Having seen the mule on the hanger deck Fenris without a word to Asher, who was already headed the other way, ran towards the hold. Within seconds of reaching it the vehicle was up and ready to roll as first Asher, loaded with weapons, then Wyatt arrived and climbed aboard.

“Where we headed Cap’n”

“To the bank, Fenris, an' don't be mindin' no speed limit neither, Asher, if the situation's humped be prepared t' do what's needed t' give us cover t' git Sam out. He's top priority, an' once we got 'im you folk better be ready t' skin out fast 'less I make the decision t' do otherwise. Now, I don't know what Sam's got 'imself into, an' I don't much care for collateral damage, but if'n it is necessary to get to Sam, you've my permission for it."

“Understood, Captain. I brought extras for the party. Just make sure you’re not in the same room when that thing goes off.”

Asher replied as Wolf moved them out and into the street the mule at full throttle though Fenris could make a guess as to what said extra’s were. And true to his thinking he too felt an extra gun being placed on him. A quick look showed the mechanic an Uzi machine pistol and a single mag beside him. Now along with his sawed off and pistol he had a third good weapon.

“If you and the Captain are going in alone, you may need the extra bullets.”

“Thanks, the more guns the better”

Pushing the speed pedal harder Fenris tried to squeeze out more speed as the bank, with every meter traveled, got closer....

(OOC: Blammm no worries helped me get my post started in fact so a thank you thrown your way)

Willow left the others and headed to her room to remove the confining obi and retie the kimono more comfortably, mulling over the meeting with the old Shepherd tomorrow morning. What does one wear to visit a Shepherd? One that appears to have the local Tong doing his bidding? Some assumptions one would normally make about a Shepherd clearly didn’t apply here.

Then, of course, was the matter of Fenris. A new crewmember meant that Willow would have to give The Talk. It was something she and the Captain had agreed upon before she’d started as ship’s doctor, and so, each member of the Rocinante had received The Talk. Asher had blushed scarlet and mumbled that such a thing had never entered his mind, and Sam had grinned widely and claimed the same thing, but the rueful shake of his head betrayed the lie. Even Kora and Trish weren’t exempt, as Willow would assume nothing about a person’s tastes and inclinations. Kora had listened, wide eyed and bemused, then thanked Willow politely, and Trish, well, Trish had just stared Willow down with that look of hers, before softening and patting her on the cheek.

Willow was just considering whether to seek out Fenris now or after he’d had a chance to look over the ship when the comm. blared to live, nearly startling Willow out of her skin.

Asher! Git your kit, an' move like you're burning for atmo, son! Wolf, git on up to the mule, and fire 'er up. Sam might be in a fix, so we're goin' in hot! MOVE! Wyatt bellowed through the comm., before the decking clanged resoundingly with the sound of running men.

“Now what?” Willow wondered, poking her head out of room to be sure she wouldn’t get run down. Trish was in the gangway, looking as startled as Willow felt, but the older woman just shrugged and grabbed her pink shotgun out of her room, turning to head to the cargo doors.

"Willow, Trish," Wyatt contacted the ship. "Lock down tight an' don't let no one in 'less I say as much, dohn-ma?"

“Me play hero?” muttered Willow to herself,” Perish the thought! Someone’s got to be ready to put the king’s men back together again!”

Shaking her head to ignore the worry gnawing at her heart, Willow headed to the cargo bay to secure the doors if Trish hadn’t already done so. Once the doors were locked and Trish at the ready, Willow will ready her medical kit. With the way their luck had been running, her skills would be needed shortly.

The Space Port 1:15-1:21 pm
JW looked out at the gathering of people and the brass band playing, All I wanted to be doing was come home, get business going, play some cards and take my soon to be missus to bed. he thought ruefully. Things never go smoothly.
With the band playing as they marched towards town, the whole thing was turning into a parade – no doubt a plan put together by the Blakes. Of course they weren’t here yet, Buddha be damned before Nora could ever show up on time.

So they were milling around with the band moving into the central near the other Firefly - Rocinante was the name on the emblem. JW wasn’t sure what that meant let alone how to pronounce it, but he was damn sure that it was the ship they had covered for and therefore the one with the ice so badly needed to run the plant. That also explained why Miss Brigit wasn’t here to greet him, probably making arrangement for the drop and the pay. She sure was something, JW mused with pride.

The mine owner gestured to Bailey, “Can we get this show on the road?”

“You know JW, we gotsa wait for the others.”

“Fine. Did you talk to …them?” he asked pointing a thumb to Rocinante.

“Yep sir. Seem like a good bunch. We gonna pick up the containers tonight, when it’s dark like and the action is in town.”

“What? What action?”

“Well Nora thought you’d like to…”

“Nevermind, Bailey. I haven’t spent three weeks away to come back to speeches and politics. Action is in the saloon tonight, I feel a powerful need for cards. Then I’ll help with the shipment. No doubt….”

J.W trailed off as the cargo bay opened up of Rocinante. People turned to look, although the band played on not far from the bay door.

***
Fenris revved the engines on the mule and prepared to kick the mule into gear. Wyatt and Asher were on the hovercraft and as soon as the bay doors opened they moved out like a shot in order to reach the bank as soon as possible. No doubt, the captain had crew that could drive, but he obviously wanted to give Fenris a chance to prove himself.

As the mule peeled out the door and into the sunlight, the rescue team finds that people are standing around everywhere. Fenris pulls to the left, trying to dodge a group of people who flee for their lives. But there are so many of them and the brass band plays on, oblivious to the vehicle. Laying on the airhorn, Fenris gets their attention but they can not flee as easily as the others. The trombone player dives to the right as the trumpet player goes left. The tubby one holding the big drum does the only thing he can, and falls to the ground. The big man playing the tuba throws his instrument into the air in blind self preservation and runs.

There are some loud noises as the mule rips though the skin of the drum, shattering the bindings and sucking the parts through the manifold of the engines. The slide to the trombone is caught by the side of the mule and ripped out of the player’s hand. The tuba bounces once off the ground underneath the mule and there is much noise from beneath the vehicle but it doesn’t slow down. A pathway is cleared and Fenris takes off towards town as fast as the engines will take them.

***

“What the …”

“Aaaaaaahhh!”

“Look out!”

Pandemonium breaks out through the crowd as a hover mule comes out of the cargo bay at full speed. The people run and flee while the driver (“Is that Wolf?”) does his level best to avoid people. The band unfortunately does not get out of the way fast enough. JW runs to check on the men with Bailey close behind. Although the men are fine, the instruments of which they held such pride are a scene of misfortune. The tuba bell is shredded, the drum is destroyed and the trombone is slide-less. The poor drum player lies on the ground covered in a blue liquid.

“You okay Darryl?”

“Pah!” the drum player struggles to his feet. “I’m fine JW, but what the Wong ba Duhn am I covered with?”

J.W gave a sniff and rubbed a finger through the liquid, “Hydraulics. Most likely brake fluid.”

“Uh oh,” Bailey said behind him, “That can’t be good.”

J.W shoots at look at the closing door and sees two women standing in the shadows of the ship. “What in the name of Wuh De Ma were they is such a hurry about? They could have killed someone!” he shouts.

***

As the mule leaves, Trish punches the control panel to close it up. However as it does so, Willow and Trish are subject to the vision of the vehicle coming at odds with all the people and the misfortune of the band members. The look that Trish gives Willow is one of fear and worry, mingled with some dread of what will become of the boys. Willow hears one of the men, the man who was giving the speech when they arrived at the ship, yell at them, “What in the name of Wuh De Ma were they is such a hurry about? They could have killed someone!”

Inside the Bank, 1:18-1:23 pm
Boom!
Sam reels with the overload of light and sound on his senses. Flashbang. We’re dog-humped! he thought, Gorramit! I know that sumbitc….
The door to the bank opened and men entered. Sam had no way of knowing how many as his vision doubled and doubled again. Voices sounding like echoes in a pipe somewhere across a room.

“Shall I kill him?” Someone asked followed by the click of a gun hammer being drawn back.

“Strip him and tie him up. We might need a Duhn Bahm. Make sure he’s down and he’s got a knife in one boot so get both of them.”

Something hard and metallic slapped across Sam’s face and drove him to the ground. He tasted blood in his mouth and from his nose. Pain exploded in Sam’s side as someone drove their foot into his ribs with a mighty kick. He struggled to get up but someone hoofed him again to the side of the head.

“Gou shi on a cracker! Boss, this guy ain’t gonna help us”

“He dead?”

“Naw, still breathing but it would take a doc to wake him now.”

“You and your brother work on the vault. Overrise it or blow it, just do it fast and quiet as you can.”

The pilot had been in tight spots before. He concentrated on the pain in his head and side and used it as a focus to drive away the blurred vision and dizziness. It was working but not fast enough. Someone took his pistols, shotgun, clips, and grenades - and then even takes off his boots. He thinks he hears the guns being tossed across the floor, towards the entranceway and where the bossman seems to be standing.Whoever is taking his stuff misses the derringer in the small of his back, but got everything else.

Then he heard the sounds of cloth ripping and the dark giddy laughter of men doing bad things. Every fibre of Sam’s being tenses at the sound and he prepares to spring, despite being still dazed. Better they focus on him then her. But then there is a slap of a hand across flesh and a curse followed by the whining of an energy weapon powering up.

“No! Leave her alone. We finish the job first! Then we can take turns with her.”

“ Shuh Mai?! We’s just having fun!”

The voice growls, “I said we finish the job first! She’s our ticket out of here if things don’t go smooth like. Now get in the cage and open that safe or I will kill both of you and your brother.”

“Okay Ethan! No need to get sore.”

“I said no names you Lio Coh Jwei Ji Neong Hur Ho Deh Yung Duh Buhn, Jah J’wohn!”

Sam’s vision pulls itself into a cohesive image. Ethan is the bossman, the one who looked so familiar. He stands with a gun in hand, hard to say what it is because it is so modified and judging by the tape and wires, by hand too – maybe a PX 5, modified with a rail enhancement and a recoil suppressor? The handyman special is enough to trigger the memory in Sam – he looks like Ludlow; could even be his brother.
The one stripping weapons is hauling Sam’s legs together and handling some rope. He is more concentrating on the view of Miss Brigit, lying on the floor with her skirt ripped open. The leer on his face speaks volumes of his intentions. Sam looks quickly at the lady he was suppose to be protecting and she seems completely out.

Down the Main Street, 1:22- 1:23 pm
With no crowds or brass bands to hog the road, Fenris opens up the engine and heads up the main street – fastest and most direct route to the bank. Unfortunately, just as he passes by Bailey’s Barn and the Livery Stables, he sees another hover vehicle coming towards him. It is a stage coach style mule and it is driving down the centre of the road. Wolf moves to the side to pass the vehicle and applies the brakes ever so slightly to reduce the speed – fearing that the draft will knock the slower machine over, especially with all the drag of the stage coach.

However, when he applies the brakes, the lever falls back with no resistance. The mule doesn’t slow down and the brakes are completely useless. Slowing down isn’t possible and stopping is gonna be real difficult.

OOC: Sam Dash has taken 6 points of stun damage and 3 points wounds from being kicked and pistol whipped.

Please note – when you post, please only consider the next few minutes. Do not post that you get to the bank and enter, as it won’t happen in this series of movements. The mule has to get pass the Stage and you need to determine how you are going to stop.(See Q&A for options) Sam can attack the man who is binding him as he is clear of mind now, but attack, movement and possible next attack is all he can do right now. Sam is disarmed except the derringer and also shoeless.

Fenris, his butt planted behind the wheel, took the mule out of the bay area of the ship fast almost before both Wyatt and Asher had seated themselves.

As the mule peeled out the door and into the sunlight, Fenris got his first look at the mob of people covering what seemed to be the whole the landing field

“Oh f***ing sh*t!! Hold on!!”

With his arms on fire, yanking the big hauler to the left with all his might, he just managed to miss the people in front as they all scattered away.

“Sorry!!”

But just as Wolf thought them clear there in front of him was that d**n band still playing on totally unaware of his approach. Laying on the air horn, Fenris got their attention but too late as he barreled into them, instruments flying everywhere, and bodies too, but of their own accord and not from the mule.

“Well good day to learn to fly I guess”

Fenris could not help saying aloud as the trombone player, Mattie, dived to the right as the trumpet player, Dexter, went left. The tubby one, Charlie, holding his big drum dropped to the ground and it was all the mechanic could do to miss him. Jacks, the big man playing the tuba, clearly had said to hell with his instrument throwing it into the air and running like the devil or worse yet the Alliance was chasing him down.

“Hey Jacks, nice day huh!!”

Fenris yelled at him as they passed him by. Finally with no crowds or brass bands to hog the road he slammed his foot onto the speed pedal and let the mule have its head with a snort of white smoke from it’s a** as if rocket powered up the main street Fenris knowing it was the fastest and most direct route to the bank.

But just as he passed by Bailey’s Barn and the Livery Stables, customers and buyers looking at them as if insane, there before him coming straight on was another hover vehicle. By its shape Wolf knew it was the daily stage coach style mail mule and it was as normal driving down the center of the road. As he moved the Rocinante mule to the left he placed his foot on the break… only to find no brakes!!.

“Oh F***!! Cap’n, Asher hold on we lost the brakes.”

Knowing the length of the main strip was not that long and would cause him to have to turn soon Wolf knew trying to fix whatever was wrong, hell finding out what was wrong, would be damn near impossible, but he had to try.

“Asher take the wheel I gotta try to fix the God****n brakes”

As the gunslinger moved to do so the new mechanic moved quickly dropped down and proceeded to try wiring the air horn to the brakes as a temporary fix. Not sure if his plan would work he called to his two passengers.

“Asher, Cap’n, get ready to bail out if you can by the bank, I will try to slow her and make the turn at streets end.”

(EDITED POST / OOC: Ok theres Wolf’s redone actions for the moment per the DM‘s advise. Hopefully I can fix the brakes and make the turn, then I can slow the mule and maybe still help at the bank.)

At best, Dash’s vision offered up fleeting, fuzzy, overlapping images when it offered up anything at all. Most of those first moments, though, were dominated by searing flashes of the nauseating, too-white light that strobbed in time with the brain-jarring squeal in his ears. He tried to point his fuzzy perceptions in the direction of the door when he heard it open but, as his vision was skittish and everything sounded like it was echoing through a gorram drainpipe, he couldn’t quite tell how many of them there were or, where exactly the door might be for that matter.

“Shall I kill him?”

Even over the ringing in his ears, the sound of the hammer being cocked back on a pistol was unmistakable. Gotta move, Sam, his mind encouraged hoping the body would comply, It’s a slug ta th’ brainpain if ya don’t.
“Strip him and tie him up,” another voice commanded…

Strip him? Dash puzzled as he wobbled to his knees and grasped for the equilibrium to make it to his feet, What inna sphincter o’ Hades? The hell ya will!
… the rest of whatever had been said was lost, though, as his vision spun and his ears squealed. Next came the facefull of steel that flat humped all the effort he’d just put into getting to an upright position…

Ai ya! he cursed, the coppery tang of blood filling his mouth and running from his nose. The pilot snorted and then spit as he pulled himself his hands and knees, Ni ching-wah tsao duh liou mahng! Now ya done went an’ f…
A kick to the ribs sent him sprawling again, the growl that had been building came out as a blood-spattered wretching sound. Ow… Sam thought he might have laughed then, before trying to get up again.

“…guy ain’t gonna help us!”

He hadn’t gotten much farther than the last time when a boot to the head leveled him yet again. Play dead, Trent, a voice he hadn’t heard in his head for a good spell advised, You’re good at that… aren’t you?
“He dead?”

Chwee ni duh, he snarled back at that voice, Fer all the good it’s done… Lookit me now! An’ th’ name’s Dash, gorramit!
“…take a doc to wake him, now.”

Right. Dash. And what’s that school teacher’s name? Or the teller?
They pulled all his ordnance, then, relieving him of every piece of hardware down to the knife in one boot and the blade in the other. He felt them do it… wanted to stop it… but couldn’t as spinny as his brainpan was. Concentrating on the pain in his side and in his head was helping to cut some of the daze, though, so Sam focused on that and drew on it. The sound of his guns being tossed across the floor angered him, spiking the pain and his adrenaline… Shiny! Jus’ ruttin’ jahn! Yer gonna die here, Dash… Move yer sorry pi guh!… but it was the sounds of ripping cloth and unmistakeably lascivious laughter that Sam found to be the deal breaker.

Jien ta duh guay, his mind fired up as pain and rage at what he knew was about to happen to Brigit brought him into lucidty, I’ll kill ever’ last gorram one o’ ya ‘fore I let that happ’n! He had tensed and was ready to spring when he heard the brutal slap followed by the whine of some sort of energy weapon powering up…

The bossman of the pack of robbers laid down the law, commanding his cronies with no room for uncertainty that the job came first and play time came later, and bought Miss Brigit a little bit of time... Good, Sam winced, thankful for the extra second of thought. It was then that he realized that the guy who had stripped his weapons had apparently failed to notice the derringer concealed at the small of his back. Merciful Buddha! Ya does love me, don’cha.
“Okay Ethan! No need to get sore.”

“I said no names you Lio Coh Jwei Ji Neong Hur Ho Deh Yung Duh Buhn, Jah J’wohn!”

Dash’s eyes focused and Mr Familiar (whom he’d just heard called Ethan) filled his view. Yeah, Sam thought, taking in the handyman’s special clusterhump of a pistol the man was holding, I do know you, don’ I? Er maybe that were yer kin as Wyatt laid low back onna mine… makes more sense… You a kid killin’ wong bah duhn like yer brother, Ludlow? I betcha are!
The pilot’s hand slithered towards the tiny pistol holstered at his back as the other joo bah jeh hauled his feet together and started coiling some rope as if to tie Sam’s feet together. An’ yer so ruttin’ dumb ya ain’t even payin’ me no mind, is ya, Sam smirked, flicking a quick glance at the man and then following the guy’s lusty gaze over to the clearly unconscious Miss Brigit… Now or never, Sammy…
Dash’s hand closed around the tiny pistol and, while Mr Rope an’ Grope was distracted by Brigit’s exposed thighs, Sam shot up, bringing the derringer around to line up with the huen dahn’s head. “Missed one, humpface,” Dash growled before pulling the trigger.

((OOC: WOOOOOOOOO! Paaaaaaaar-TAY! The heck with wrestling with this guy, let’s shoot him and move. After pulling the trigger on “Rope and Grope” Sam’s gonna make a grab for one of the man’s Colts if possible, then hopefully get him and Miss Brigit behind some sort of cover before Ludlow can blast a hole in him with that Rail. Protecting Brigit (and staying alive his own self) is the top priority at the moment but I’d still like to toss a plot point at getting one of Rope and Grope's Colts… One shot in the derringer ain’t gonna do squat. Edit: Oops... R&G didn't have Pythons... just Colt Peashooters... my bad.))

As Wolf tore out of the Roc, Asher held on tight, resisting the force that wanted to drive him over backwards. Nice… thought the Lad, impressed with how the new mechanic maneuvered the mule out of the ship.

The urgency of the idea that Dash might be in trouble, however, had caused Asher to forget all about the big crowd of people that had gathered outside.

“Wuo duh Ma!” came out of the Kid’s mouth as Wolf managed to weave and dodge his way toward the crowd.

Then the band came into view.

“Ai ya!” Asher ducked low to the mule, praying that noone was hurt. He cringed as he heard the harsh sound of something being sucked through the manifold. Looking behind them, Asher called out to the band, “Sorry, folks, it’s his first day.”

It was then that the Kid noticed the trail of fluid they were leaving behind them. Oh crap!
“Uh… Captain…”

Wolf seemed to make the same discovery, “Oh F***!! Cap’n, Asher hold on we lost the brakes.”

Looking forward again, Asher saw the other hover mule up ahead, taking up most of the road. Death by mule accident was just not the glorious demise Asher was hoping for.

Wolf snapped him back to the immediate. “Asher take the wheel I gotta try to fix the God****n brakes!”

Asher reached over as best he could to take over the steering from the mechanic, trying to edge the mule closer to the side that had the most space between the buildings and the oncoming mule. All the while, he yelled at the top of his lungs, “Watch out! Move! Ma-shong! Move out of the way!”

Wolf was worried. “Asher, Cap’n, get ready to bail out if you can by the bank, I will try to slow her and make the turn at streets end.”

Run-tse duh fwo-tzoo, help us!
[OOC: Asher will be using the bonus given to him from the Captain’s leadership asset. If the piloting of this vehicle in this scenario is more than formable, Asher will also use a plot point. (if I have any left)]

Wyatt remained steel-eyed and serene as they careened through the crowd. Though inwardly he was concerned for the well-being of the citizens, he had long ago determined that the stalwart, steadfastness of a leader was important so as not to fuel the panic subordinates might endure in such situations. So, as instruments and people flew left and right, even underneath the mule, Wyatt Sung sat as dignified and silent as possible through the jarring ride. Even as Asher and Wolf were swearing and calling out apologies, Wyatt stared out from beneath the lowered brim of his hat, eyes fixed on what most certainly would be a challenge up ahead.

“Uh… Captain…”

Wolf seemed to make the same discovery, “Oh F***!! Cap’n, Asher hold on we lost the brakes.”

Wolf snapped him back to the immediate. “Asher take the wheel I gotta try to fix the God****n brakes!”

"You ain't gonna do us any good by freakin' out, Wolf. Just get it fixed. Asher's got the controls." Wyatt's might have been discussing the arrival of shovels in the general store for his tone, though his heart was racing.

Asher reached over as best he could to take over the steering from the mechanic, trying to edge the mule closer to the side that had the most space between the buildings and the oncoming mule. All the while, he yelled at the top of his lungs, “Watch out! Move! Ma-shong! Move out of the way!”

Wolf's worried voice called up from underneath the console, “Asher, Cap’n, get ready to bail out if you can by the bank, I will try to slow her and make the turn at streets end.”

Wyatt sighed and secured his hat more tightly on his skull while watching for an opportunity to bail should the need arise. "Fenris, you're my ship mechanic now, an' my ship mechanic don't fail at things. That's just unacceptable. So, we'll sit tight while you remedy the situation, and Asher pulls us nice an' steady up to the hitchin' post. Then we can all proceed on with the doin's of helping Sam out of whatever pinch he's managed to get himself into, and be back to Rocinante in time for Trish's dinner bell."

A wise man once said that humor is tragedy plus time, but it was going to take a lot of time before today seemed funny. Willow watched, heart in mouth and hands to her face, as the “heroes” plowed through a crowd, scattering people and musical instruments everywhere.

“What in the name of Wuh De Ma were they is such a hurry about? They could have killed someone!” the man Willow assumed to be JW shouted. The former Companion glided out of the cargo bay with more speed than was perhaps seemly, and approached JW with hands out wide.

“You must be JW,” Willow said loudly, taking his hands in her own and leaning in to air-kiss the startled man on both whiskery cheeks, As she did so, she said quietly, ”Best get your men together and follow that mule. We got a distress call from one of ours, and he was headed to the bank with your woman.”

Finishing the kiss, Willow continued brightly,” I’m the ship’s medic, I’ll have a look at these brave musicians. C’mere boys, lets have a look at any boo boos!”

As JW reacts to her words, Willow surrounds herself with the musicians from the band, looking over their hurts (real and imaginary) and cooing over their bravery and quick thinking in such danger. With the kimono fluttering silkily as she moved and her butterfly pin sparkling in the sun, Willow looks like an exotic bird among barnyard fowl.

OOC: If any are truly hurt, she’ll ask Trish to fetch her med kit to the cargo bay, knowing the woman won’t want to step out where she can be seen clearly. Otherwise, she’ll use her charm to smooth over any ruffled feathers in the crowd.

Wyatt sighed and secured his hat more tightly on his skull while watching for an opportunity to bail should the need arise. "Fenris, you're my ship mechanic now, an' my ship mechanic don't fail at things. That's just unacceptable. So, we'll sit tight while you remedy the situation, and Asher pulls us nice an' steady up to the hitchin' post. Then we can all proceed on with the doin's of helping Sam out of whatever pinch he's managed to get himself into, and be back to Rocinante in time for Trish's dinner bell."

The Captain’s words brought confidence to the Kid, and Asher gave Sung a big grin. “Yeehaw, Captain. Home fer dinner sounds mighty nice.” Calling down to Wolf, “Don’t you worry none about the ride, Wolf. You fix them brakes… If I have too, I’ll just take the girl for another spin around the block ‘til you can slow her down.”

Time 1:25 pm

The Mule
Wolf opens the panel to allow access to the guts of the mule. He didn’t have high hopes of a fast fix at this point, not knowing why the brakes had failed.

"Fenris, you're my ship mechanic now, an' my ship mechanic don't fail at things. That's just unacceptable. So, we'll sit tight while you remedy the situation, and Asher pulls us nice an' steady up to the hitchin' post. Then we can all proceed on with the doin's of helping Sam out of whatever pinch he's managed to get himself into, and be back to Rocinante in time for Trish's dinner bell."

The words of the Captain, said so self assured, filled Wolf with a sense of confidence. He looks into the panel and sees the problem immediately, the hydraulics have been torn up – most likely by the instruments of the band. Brakes still work fine but the controls are gone. He needed a replacement – but what could he use? The answer came in a flash as Asher hit the air horn to warn the other mule. Using the tools he keeps on him, Wolf makes short work of rerouting the compressed air for the horn into the hydraulic control of the brakes. It was an ugly fix, but it would work long enough for them to stop without crashing.

Asher gave as much room as he could to the other mule and the other driver at least had the smarts to quickly move to the side. As they pass, the wake of the mule causes the Stage to sway badly, but the driver manages to correct the vehicle and pulls to a stop at the side before the Stage flips over.

“Asher!” Wolf calls out, “Try the horn - it’s the Fay-Fay Duh Pee-Yen brake now!”

Asher hits the horn and sure enough, the vehicle starts to slow as if he hit the brake. He turns to shout an affirmation to Wolf when a bullet passes close to his ear. The Kid snaps his head back to see the glint off a gun barrel. Outside the bank is smaller mule – parked with engine going. Inside the mule, someone with a rifle is shooting at them. Wyatt sees the mule as well just as Fenris closes the hatch and scrambles back to take the driver’s seat.

OOC: Range Mule to Mule is 250 feet and closing. Mules serve as medium cover

Outside the Bank Grant pulled the mule up outside the bank and put the engine into idle so they’d be ready to take off at a moments notice. He kept an eye out in case anyone took notice of them. Ethan wouldn’t take kindly to him if he let some townie get in the way with the job.

Looking down the street, Grant notices something was heading up the street. He raised his rifle to his eye and flipped open the scope to get a better look. A heavy mule was coming fast, almost knocking over another in the process. “Wuo duh Ma!”, he exclaimed and quickly fire a shot at the driver, hoping to spook him off. Grant missed and quickly grabbed the handset on the dash, “We’ve got company!” He shouted, and prepared to fire again.

Inside the Bank
“Missed one, Humpface”

Jones turned surprise to see a derringer pointed at him. He tried to throw himself back to avoid the shot, but he was too close and Sam was too good of a shot. Jones is hit directly in the heart at close range; killing him instantly as his body slumps over backwards from the impact.

Sam forces himself to move past the pain of his injuries. He reaches out with his left hand and closes his fist around the colt in the dead man’s holster.

“What the ..” Ethan fires at Sam. The gun makes a brief “paf” noise and the world explodes in Sam’s right shoulder. It is a vicious wound that almost causes him to black out as Sam is thrown back with the impact but somehow manages to hold onto the colt. Sam knows the end is coming, Ethan has him dead to right in sight.

Brigit flexes her back and springs upward to a standing position, kicking her leg high in the air and catching Ethan under his outreached arm. He loses his grip on the gun, sending it end over end into the air and clattering to the ground. As it hits the ground, there is a loud snap, and the high pitch whine rapidly shuts down to be replaced by a crackling.

Ethan backhands Brigit hard in the face. The blow is hard enough to send her backwards a distance to trip over the table and fall face first into one of the overstuffed chairs. She does not get up.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Ethan goes for his twin Pythons. A communicator on his side activates and a voice shouts out “We’ve got company!”

Working on the Vault
“See! Told you it would short the vault control.” Jake observed after opening up the cortex box.

“He slapped me! I was just having fun.” Elway moaned, still rubbing his face.

“Never mind that. Disable the power to the router while I connect this override.”

Elway brought the clippers closer, “Red then blue?”

“Yep. Blue then red, finds you dead. Red than blue, will hold ya true.”

He clipped the wires and his brother immediately took out a small metal box and connected the leads. There was a brief whirl, then the bolts on the vault released.

“We’re in Boss!”

BLAMM…PAF…BANG…SLAP…

The two brothers looked up and over towards the ruckus, then went for their own weapons as the handset on their sides shouted out, “We’ve got Company!”

At Rocinante “You must be JW,” Willow said loudly, taking his hands in her own and leaning in to air-kiss the startled man on both whiskery cheeks, As she did so, she said quietly, ”Best get your men together and follow that mule. We got a distress call from one of ours, and he was headed to the bank with your woman.”

JW was up on his feet, running calling out to people as he moved.

“Chad! Need your horse!”

“You got it, JW,” the man calls slipping off his horse and handing the reins to the elder man.

“Eliza? Your Hog’s leg?”

A short round lady with a old fashion engineer’s hat pulls her shortened shotgun off her back and tosses up to JW as he turns the horse around.

“Bailey!?”

“On it Boss! You do what you have to do!” Sacket calls back and JW is off like a shot towards town. Bailey starts to shout out orders to the people that re obviously miners, “Okay people. You heard the lady. Trouble brewing again.”

Willow heads towards the band members but her trained medical eye has already seen that their wounds are superficial, although the members are more than willing to be examined by Willow. The instruments however, are beyond the call of even the most trained medic.

OOC: Sam has now taken 12 points of stun damage and 8 Wounds. Your life total is 14 so you are not doing well. I am rolling an endurance roll each round at this point unless you wish to use plot points to “effect” the damage – which I would recommend highly.

Once again, be specific on what’s and when’s. If you are attacking, please specify weapon and how many shots you plan to fire (based on ROF) – given you will only have two rounds of combat in this post. Check your ranges on the weapons or you may be wasting bullets.

Oops -I made a math error on Sam's wounds. It was 8, not 11.