Even if Wyatt hadn’t been the superstitious sort, the vision of these new ships crowding Rocinante would have been enough to put him on edge. As it was, they gave him pause as he rounded the last corner between him and home. The captain stood alone in the shadow of an awning, looking across the docks at the emblem on the defiant, Wyatt tries hard to remember if he’d seen it someplace before. Drawing a blank, he decides it don’t mean he has to like it any more than previous. Dragonflies were bigger than Fireflies, and that meant they housed richer and better armed individuals. It was something to be wary of. But what worried the captain more was the presence of the ranabout. That spelled trouble.

Wyatt had never really ruled out that the first Ludlow they’d killed hadn’t been after Sam the Miner, but might’ve been after Sam Dash. He alone among the crew knew of Sam’s history—Hell! They’d almost killed each other when he’d found out. It’d turned out to be the cement in their relationship however, and it was now as Sam’d said in the Doc’s place, “to the end.” Bounty hunters poised on his starboard meant potentially that Dash was in trouble again.

Clenching his jaw, Wyatt Sung stepped from his perch on the wood walkway and felt the puff of dirt slip up the leg of his jeans as his boots struck earth. Even though he’d yet to see any threat, his duster had been pulled back to rest on the inside of his hog’s leg. With his hand hovering near the comfort of the iron, the captain approached the ship, and entered through the cargo bay door, closing it securely behind him the whole time wondering if he ought not to go back for Sam and Wolf right then, the machine Sam was attached to be damned. Unfortunately, their financial situation reigned him in as he turned about and took in their hold and the containers of ice that would soon be delivered. They had no cargo, no work, and he’d be a poor captain if he burned atmo’ purely to starve his crew in the Black.

Making his way to the galley, Wyatt finds Ma forcing coffee and food down Asher’s throat. The stench of alcohol floated heavy in the air, and Wyatt swallowed his resolve. It would be so easy to allow himself to sink into that particular comfort once again…so easy.

“You get started on that cargo, as I asked, Kid?”

Asher nodded as he sipped on the bitter black liquid.

“Good. When you get right again, meet me down in the cargo bay to finish it up,” Wyatt raised his brows at Ma and motioned for her to follow him, making his way into the fore deck. Once there, he turned about and, leaning against the rail, he peered over her shoulder back towards the galley to make sure Asher hadn’t followed them. He didn’t want the kid to catch his worry, lest the gunfighter go see what he could see about them bounty hunters.

“Look, Ma,” Wyatt drawled, turning his attention back to the scarred beauty. “We’re in it thick here, but we can’t leave just yet, so I need to know you’re on your guard. There’s some new ships that’ve docked, and either of them could be trouble fer the likes of us. Unfortunately we still got us a couple of days dirtside, so we need to make sure there ain’t nothing we ain’t prepared for.”

Wyatt read the expression on his face and followed it with a slight shake of his head. “I know. I hate the fact that we’re all spread out like this too, but we’ll be regrouped first thing tomorrow. Just be ready with that scattergun. OK?”

Wyatt spends some time filling Trish in on the events of the day, providing details that the others might not have had, then he heads up to the bridge to see if he can’t find anything on the cortex concerning the two new ships. About twenty minutes before JW’s men are supposed to arrive, he heads back to the cargo bay and finishes preparations for moving the cargo.

Wyatt let the crew in when they arrived, and as they got started he found himself approached by Mr. Blake.

“Excuse me Captain. You did me quite a service today, quite a service indeed. If it hadn’t been for you and your men, I shudder to think of where I would be now.” Wyatt looked down at this proffered hand, in which was a small wooden box. Taking it, the captain lifted the lid a bit, but upon catching sight of the credits there he promptly closed it again.

“I wanted to say thank you and offer you a small token of my appreciation,” the banker said.

Wyatt gave the man a nod and shook his hand. “No problem.”

When everyone had finished with the crates, Bailey sealed the deal by paying Wyatt 40 more credits before stepping off to conclude the other details he was responsible for. That’s when JW approached.

“We are heading back to the Lawrence. Anyone like to join us?”

Wyatt glanced back up into the cargo bay, then over at the runabout. He considered refusing the hospitality and retiring for the night, but knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep what with his concern for Sam weighing heavy on his shoulders. Perhaps JW can shed some light on the bounty hunters, he thought and offered the man a nod.

“Sure. I’d be happy to, though I think Asher’s had a bit all he can handle of a saloon today.”

Wyatt looks for Willow, and if she’s around, he’ll invite her along as well…to keep him in line and clean up any mistakes he makes in diplomatic relations, but he’d made sure to make it clear that the Kid was to remain on Rocinante.

Once he had JW’s attention, whether it be at the saloon, or on the road to the saloon, Wyatt asked the question that was itching at his throat to come out.

“I noticed that runabout and the dragonfly docked near my ship, JW. Any idea what the business is for those on board?”

Port Newhouse
Newhouse, Beylix
The sun climbed high to noon as a tall middle aged man stepped out of the shadow of a Dragonfly class ship. Though the man appeared in his mid forties, he still had a rugged, brawny appearance; unruly auburn hair with a touch of gray at his temples; a large, full mustache, and deep penetrating hazel eyes were all traits that most women would consider handsome. The only blemish to his ruggedly handsome face was a thin scar from the outer edge of his left eyebrow down his cheek to the corner of his mouth; though even this minor blemish some would consider an asset to his ruggedness.

He turned to look back at the Dragonfly, Prospect, it said on the bow. He sighed heavily at the loss of the place he had called home for over a year. He would miss the old crew, Captain Sherman, Bennet, Mona, and Lewis; but he considered himself lucky that he was free to go while the others were still being held and investigated by the Alliance.

The ship had landed here in Newhouse only yesterday and been immediately met by Alliance goons who had ’bound by law’ the entire crew under suspicion of illegal trafficking in stolen goods. He had been set free only moments ago and after showing proof that his things had indeed been purchased by him and not part of the ships equipment, he had been allowed to leave with his possessions. He was sure that most of the crew would be cleared though the Captain would no doubt take the fall for the others; Sherman was just that kind of man who was extremely loyal to his crew.

Hefting his bag on his shoulder and setting his hat upon his head, Andrew Bowman turned and headed into Newhouse for the first time. He made his way past the Port Authority building and towards the center of town. He curled his nose at the noxious vapors emanating from what appeared to be a smelting operation; he knew that Beylix was a the junkyard of the verse and anything that couldn’t be sold was melted down and made into anything useful.

Making his way slowly up McClarrin Ave, named after one of the first settlers he had heard, he took in all the sights around him for he never knew when some little thing might come in handy. He walked past a couple of bars, one clean looking one called Planetfall, and another not so clean once calling itself Edgars’s Place. He wasn’t quite ready to settle into a room yet, he had some thinking to do. What was his next step. What work would he find here. He wasn’t yet sure he would find anything in Newhouse; his line of work was not usually plied in such places as Newhouse.

As he came to a small green area containing trees at the center of town, the tall man stepped aside as some town children ran by playing a game of tag. He smiled slightly at no matter how tough life could get children always found a way to make the best of it and find little pleasures where usually none was found.

He paused to look around the little manicured area containing three trees, the only ones he had seen thus far. A town’s folk looked over the obvious stranger as they pass; his build and manner of dress were something not normally seen in these parts. His clothes were a bit above normal for this scrap planet; tailored dress pants, a long sleeve dress shirt, a matching vest, a bolo style tie with silver clasp, and a tan broad brim, fur felt hat complete the ensemble. The clothes speak of someone who has known money and enjoys fine things but not to excess; a practical western gentleman and not some core world softy.

Making his way around the green sward, the man sees several buildings which are obviously government types, one from it’s opulence can only be the Mayor’s or Governor’s Mansion, and the ever-present local jailhouse. The presence of a man with a badge outside the last place confirms his suspicion of it’s function.

The lawman watches as the stranger walks by and gives the man a friendly nod and the once over as he passes. The deputy notices several things about the tall gentleman; a confident swagger that tells of a man able to handle himself, and the serious looking quick draw rig hanging on the man’s right side. A low riding holster holding what looks like a PK12 semi-automatic pistol and another revolver on his left hip in a cross draw holster.

The deputy knows trouble when he sees it and this man’s hardware and demeanor tells him this man is trouble walking into town. He considers stopping the man and asking him some questions, but thinks better of it since he is alone at the moment; as the man heads on down the street the deputy turns and heads inside the jail.

The stranger continues on, knowing that behind him the deputy had obviously been thinking of questioning him about his business here; it would happen soon enough.

The final two buildings in the circle were a hotel, Fu’s Palace, which he might check out later; and a bar, Emmet’s, which looked respectable enough so he decided to get out of the sun and perhaps get a drink. It had been a grueling 24 hours and he thought perhaps he needed one.

He walked into the bar and looked around the room as he headed over to an open spot at the counter. Sitting his bag down by his feet he slipped onto a stool and once he had the bartender’s attention he ordered a whiskey and turned to look around at the card tables to see if any games were in process; one never knew when your luck was about to change.

(OOC: ok.. Posted my pic for the opening post just to set the image. Hope my opening post is ok. I will get more into the character as things move along.)

Willow’s return to the ship with Asher was only complicated slightly by the Kid’s growing inebriation; she’d seen him down Wild Turkey in the bar and only knew the fresh night air would have a compounding effect. It wasn’t the first time she’d been escorted by someone in their cups, however, some clients, especially first-timers, would partake of liquid courage, either in the party spirit or to calm their nerves.

Part of a Companion’s training was to subtly guide a client, with words, gestures, body language and gentle touch; with a drunk one, the techniques were just less subtle. Fortunately, Asher was a friendly, harmless drunk, and if his grip on her sometimes drifted into the inappropriate while trying to keep his balance walking, Willow reminded herself that it was just because every little stone and change in grade in their path was leaping up to meet Asher’s boots. She responded with good humour at his conversation, even laughing merrily at a few absurdities, but kept her eyes moving all the way to the ship.

As they approached the ship, Willow noticed that the other ship had departed, and two others had arrived, but thought little of it. For all the others talked of this class or another, they were just ships to the former Companion: large ones, little ones, luxurious ones and scrappy ones that still managed to gallop through the Black. Outside of the smallest ship Willow’d ever seen was a man in red and gold body armour, and as he approached them, Willow shifted her body so that it appeared as if the two of them might be tipsy, holding each other up instead of just Asher. She hung her head a little, letting the fall of hair from her updo obscure her face, and “accidently” knocked Asher’s hat so that it did the same to his face.

“Excuse me? Wonder if you might help me?” He asks pleasantly enough as he approaches. “There might be a cash reward for you if you can.”

“Cash? Reward?” Willow squeaked, stopping when it was clear he wasn’t going to let them pass. ‘Lemme see. I can always use a little more cash. Hang on, honey, we’ll party in a mo” The last was said to Asher, as Willow reached for the paper that was being shoved into her face anyway.

She squinted at the pictures on the printout, and let her puzzlement telegraph from her eyes and face. “Have you seen these two? They were last seen in a Firefly transport? Love to chat with the crew of that ship there, but it is closed up tight.”

“No, gorram it, don’t know these two. Sure would’ve liked the money, just the same,” Willow answered poutily, ignoring the unspoken question about Rocinante .

“Much obliged.” He says taking back his notice. ‘Guess I will go look around town then. Good Evening Miss, Sir.”

Willow waved him off, her gestures sloppy, and gathered her “client” back up to walk away. She continued past the Rocinante until the bounty hunter was out of sight, then doubled back to the cargo door, and rapped lightly to alert Trish.

Willow saw the header of the message awaiting her and was momentarily puzzled, wondering why Auntie Sun was contacting her so soon after a visit. The kitten! Wasn’t that a hundred years ago?
The wave started and the picture resolved itself on an extreme closeup of Sunni’s nose, tilted upwards as the little woman strained to be in the frame of the picture. A giant finger obscured the screen as it tapped the screen twice, the impact booming through the audio, but when the finger withdrew, the image framed Sunni’s face almost perfectly.

‘Hallo? Is this thing on? I just want to…oh, hello darling! I don’t see you in forever and now we are chatting like the girls in the back of the class room! I am sure Usha should be so lucky to hear from you so often. No, don’t look like that, silly dumpling, Usha loves you in her own way.

Now, you wanted Auntie Sun to find about a lost puss, and you know I m too busy for such silliness, but for you, darling, I move mountains! Mountains! But never you mind, because it was no work to find out. Senator’s girl has a kitty she can’t find, and he’s offering 1000 credits for it’s return. This is foolishness, darling, because unless the furball poops golden turds shaped like Buddha himself, there’s no reason why Senator can’t get himself a replacement puss and save himself all kinds of trouble. Of course, now you can’t find a single cat in town, everyone’s bought ‘em up to get the reward. It’s total madness, darling and it wearies me. If anyone had asked me….Oh dear, I must go…I smell coriander being put in the soup and it’s way too soon! Talk to you so….”

Willow smiled fondly at the screen as the little woman’s image shrank and became a white dot on the screen. Watching Auntie Sun was nearly as exhausting as being in person with her, and Willow realized that she was, in fact, quite worn out. It had been a long day, and she had an early morning appointment. Still, she had work to do. She keyed up the Companions’ Client Registry, hoping her credentials still worked, and began the careful process of removing her makeup while the system searched for the information she requested.

She paused, one false eyelash perched on a fingertip, when some Ludlows came up and others did not. Daddy was a bad man, black marked for hurting a Companion, and Willow shivered with revulsion. Number one son appeared to be cut of a different cloth, and was actually well regarded by several Companions. Willow looked over his profile, the file containing his preferences, favoured techniques, and saw a conservative man aspiring to the finer things in life, even if he wasn’t quite sure what those things were.

No sign of the brothers Willow knew, but she wasn’t surprised by that. They hardly struck her as the sort that could attract a Companion, even if they had scraped together enough scrimshaw to pay the fee. A few keystrokes and more passwords got her into another area of the database, one filled with miscellaneous information filed away by the thousands of Companions and those employed by the Order. Filled with facts, rumours and bits of gossip, the ‘coffee house” was a place to post information that was not directly related to a client, but might be useful to know.

Willow had progressed to brushing out her hair when Ermest and Ethan finally bubbled to the surface of gossip. These two seemed to have a wrongness about them, like their father, but wanted to be as unlike him as much as possible. “Families are complicated,” Willow murmured to herself as jade eyes scanned the various entries that pieced together lives of petty crime.

It was then that Willow could hear the sounds of the ship opening the cargo door, the metallic clang felt by her skin as much as she heard it, and she made her way to the kitchen to find Wyatt. She smiled at the sight of Trish tending to Asher, and the young man sheepishly claim he was better now, thank you, but gestured to Wyatt to come close.

She wrapped her arms around herself, the simple cotton robe ghostly in the ship’s lights, and told Wyatt what she’d learned about the Ludlows, and described her encounter with the bounty hunter outside. “I don’t think I should go out anymore, Captain-San, I may run into that bounty hunter where he doesn’t expect to see a goodtime girl. I also think a place likes this gets wilder with the night, and ladies retire early.”

Beylix, Newhouse, The Green, 11:00 am
Dason Wang was a three times loser. Lost a good paying job years back for being greedy on his skims, lost his wife and family who left him after that, and turned to theft and larceny not long after to make ends meet. After years of finding out how low he could go, murder wasn’t hard for him anymore – if it go him a few credits to buy a meal and a bottle. It had been weeks since he had a decent meal, and his desperation was taking hold.

But he had to play it cool in this here city. The law men here took their jobs seriously and at least one of them was all too willing to deal out justice from the barrel of a gun. Extra care was necessary, but by Buddha’s little pony, he so wanted a drink and food right now.

He stood on the end of the green, a park in the centre of Newhouse, watching people go by and assessing whether they’d be a easy mark. He hocked his guns month ago for a six pack of warm beer, some bread and a willing Ma Tze. But a rock or a piece of board was always easy to find, easier than an easy mark.

That was when “He” walked across the Green right in front of him. It was Andrew Gorram Bowman, Dason was sure of it. Some called him the Professor but he looked like a meal ticket to Dason. His former boss, Daniel Putman had a brother killed by that Ri shao gou shi bing. Showed his picture around to everyone promising a big reward if anyone was to bag him. If Dason could take him out, then he could get in Danny’s good books again. Maybe even get himself a reward! But he needed a gun.

As if blessed by Buddha’s little pony, at that moment a man came out of the hotel. Smartly dressed, but without a sidearm, he walked down the street towards the lower end of town. Dason bent down as if to tie his shoe and palmed a fist sized rock from the road gravel. Whistling a merry tune, Dason followed after the man, thinking to himself that his luck had finally changed.

Regina, Frisco, Main Street, 11:30 pm
It felt good to have money in hand again. The funny thing about money is no matter what you had, it never seemed enough. The extra credits from the banker came as a welcome bonus, but even then, with everything else on the list of “to do” it could be all gone in a week.

Asher and Willow chose to stay abroad the ship with Trish, as they had enough excitement for one day. Wyatt accepted the invitation to join the miners for the evening, despite it bring him back to the temptation of the drink. On the way over to the saloon, Wyatt walked next JW and asked, “I noticed that runabout and the dragonfly docked near my ship, JW. Any idea what the business is for those on board?”

“I don’t rightly know” JW replied and he looked over to Bailey.

“The Transport was dropping off passengers and refuelling. Crew was looking for a load to carry but we ain’t got one. So I think they decided to check out town while they were planetside.” Bailey answered, “As to the small one, some guy looking for a brother and sister wanted by Alliance. Offering a portion of a reward with anyone knows anything. Apparently they were last seen on a firefly leaving Beaumonde. Easy to spot the guy though, wears these fancy red and gold duds by Newtech.”

“Bounty hunter.” JW said in disgust and spat on the ground. “You ain’t got these fugitives do ya? Second thought, I don’t want to know if you do. I play stupid better when I don’t know anything.”

(any conversation here)

The Lawrence is quite the scene as miners crowd the place. Card games are being played where a table can be found and the whiskey is running like a river. JW must have got the word out to at least the miners because no one calls Wyatt by the name Sheriff. Wyatt notes that the saloon has three serving girls that are triplets, as well there are some working ladies here as well. The captain notices that the blonde woman that Asher was talking to before is no longer here. He doesn’t see anyone that looks like they would be the crew of the Defiant but this is more of a locals saloon.

(not sure what you wanted to do here or if you had a purpose. The drinking will be quite the temptation to Wyatt as he is offered a drink constantly. Unless you state otherwise, I will assume you head back to the ship after 1:00 so you can get some sleep before the meetings tomorrow)

The Doc’s place 12:30 am
Brigit rolled over and purred gently in Sam’s arm. The Pilot couldn’t remember a night of such pleasure before nor a woman that could bring him to such heights and depths either.

“I better run now sweetheart,” Brigit said and detached herself as she stood up. Sam admired her body as she gathered up her clothing and felt desire wash over him again.

“Listen Sam.” Brigit said as she redressed herself, “I want to be honest with you. Things ain’t what they seem around here. In fact, I ain’t what I seem.”

(assume a response similar to huh?)

“How would you and your captain like to score a job that would leave you with enough money to buy your own moon? Cause I’m onto something here and when I find it, I’ll need a ship to get it off this dustball. Now your captain is a tough one. Some deep tragedy in his past, I would bet family killed or the like? I’m gonna need your help to convince him that this is the best score he’ll ever come across. Equal shares across the board, because this is a motherload. Will you help me?

(assuming a yes, anything if you take your clothing off again)

“Have you ever heard of the Lucius Newberry?

(assuming a yes, maybe if you take your clothes off or no, but hum a few bars)

“During the war, the Lucius was loaded with crate and crates of platinum pieces - a veritable fortune that was earmarked for the independence’s war effort. But something happened and it disappeared. Well I found out it crashed here, on this planet. The survivor of the crew buried it deep in what was then the abandoned mine shaft. After the War, JW buys the mine and strikes it rich, not realizing what is there deep in his mine. Now I haven’t found the treasure yet. For that I need to talk to a man named Sam Hawkes.” Brigit comes close to Sam and holds him tight, “Now I hired a man to get Hawkes for me and I think something between him and your captain went very wrong. I overheard Wyatt saying something to Ethan before he died about killing Ernest Ludlow. You gotta believe me, I didn’t hire him to kill or attack anyone. He was supposed to find Sam Hawkes and convince him to come here so I could speak to him. What really happened up there?”

(have to stop to let you speak)

Rocinante, 12:45 am
Rocinante starts to shake violently. Everyone on board wakes up confused as it feels like you are taking off. It takes a moment before you realize that a ship near Rocinante must be taking off at full burn. Trish grabs her shotgun and starts to head for the door before Asher stops her physically. “Safer in here than out there if the damn fool wants to take off that way, Ma.”

After a short time, the ship stops rocking and things settle down again. Only then does Asher grab his guns and heads outside with Trish and Willow in tow. Outside, the ground where the bounty hunter ship is blackened and charred and the ship can be seen above a speck in the sky.

“Why he’d leave in such a dang hurry?” Asher wonders out loud, “Reckless idiot could have set the whole town on fire if he had a blow back.”

Trish is the first to notice the burnt pile on the ground. As she approaches she waves to Willow to come quick. There, on the ground is the twisted remains of a human caught in the blast. His red and gold armour is now melted and twisted from the heat. But Willow knows immediately that the fire did not kill the Bounty Hunter. The hole in the forehead of the skull speaks a different tale of death.

Asher runs back into the ship to radio the captain. As he does, he sees a hat caught next to a landing strut of Rocinante. He recognizes the hat as being similar to the one worn by the woman he met in the bar, with whom he shared the pie.

OOC: Okay. I need to finish the conversation with Sam and Brigit, and then bring Sam and Wolf home so that we can start on the new day.

Bro – Let me know what you want with Wyatt and either you will see the other ship leave as you are heading back or you’ll get a call from Asher.

Just a note - lawless town, so no one is gonna be investigate the death of iron man there.

“I noticed that runabout and the dragonfly docked near my ship, JW. Any idea what the business is for those on board?” Wyatt glanced at the window of a shop they were passing, black as the day’s business had ended and reflecting the scene on the street including them passing by.

“I don’t rightly know” JW replied and he looked over to Bailey.

“The Transport was dropping off passengers and refuelling. Crew was looking for a load to carry but we ain’t got one. So I think they decided to check out town while they were planetside.” Bailey answered, “As to the small one, some guy looking for a brother and sister wanted by Alliance. Offering a portion of a reward with anyone knows anything. Apparently they were last seen on a firefly leaving Beaumonde. Easy to spot the guy though, wears these fancy red and gold duds by Newtech.”

“Bounty hunter.” JW said in disgust and spat on the ground. “You ain’t got these fugitives do ya? Second thought, I don’t want to know if you do. I play stupid better when I don’t know anything.”

Sung made a dry chuckle sound and shook his head. “Naw, I don’t have nothin’ aboard since you folks took the shipment.”

Wyatt joined the men in the bar in order to keep his ear to the ground, learn what he could from the locals as to what’s going on, but he kept his mouth dry. It was a very difficult task to accomplish, not drinking, but he’d promised, and he knew that losing sobriety at this moment could mean life or death for himself, or his crew, so when the temptation got too difficult, and the captain nearly accepted, he knew he was getting too tired to effectively resist. That’s when he called it a night, and made his way back towards Rocinante.

He kept a close eye on the shadows again, wondering if he were getting as twitchy as Sam—maybe they were wearing off on each other. In any case, as he drew near the dock, the smell of fuel heavy in the air, he heard the sound of a ship burnin’ atmo as fast as it could. His brow furrowed, Wyatt slipped his coat around the leg of his Colt and rest a hand on the grip as he kept on. His icy stare swept the boardwalks quickly coming to rest on the smoke trail that climbed to the heavens, the bounty hunter’s skiff slowly diminishing against the dark sky. A frown creased his face as he considered what reasons the fellow might have had to risk setting the docks aflame with his departure, but then the response he’d received from Bailey concerning the bounty hunter’s intention had relieved him of some stress related to the man’s arrival, so as he watched the burn grow smaller, he shifted so that his coat was draped over his weapon once more and continued on towards Rocinante intent on getting some much needed sleep.

Stepping up to the ship’s cargo door, he glanced over to where the other ship had departed, shaking his head as he punched the code to give him access. Opening the door, he stepped into the cargo bay and then turned, and out of habit, peered over the dark docks to see if anyone had followed him (OOC: Perception check please). Closing the door, he slung the lock and then turned and faced his empty cargo bay.

What a mess this whole thing had turned into. The mule’d need repairs, they had nothing lined up even though there was the possibility of the meeting in the morning resulting in some additional work, Wyatt was the type to never count his chicks before they hatched. Taking a deep breath, the captain made his way up the side stairs to the catwalk, the up to the front hall. He was about to head to his room when he heard activity in the galley. The frown still on his face, Wyatt turned and made his way down the foredeck to the galley, stepping into the soft light to see Ma, Willow, and Asher all apparently discussing something (OOC: making some assumptions here as fifteen minutes plus would have passed from when you lot rushed out and found the corpse).

“Awful late, dontcha think?” Wyatt said softly, eyeing the group with furrowed brows and a downturned head, his thumbs hooked in his belt.

(OOC: Assuming they tell him of the discovery…)

The frown never left Sung’s face during the recital of their discovery and when they were done, he gave a slight shake of his head. “So, someone stole the bounty hunter’s ship after killing the Buhn Dahn?

“None of our gorram business if’n you ask me. Less we know about that mess the better. Now, there’s a lot goin’ on in less hours than I’d like to count. So, I suggest the likes of you all get some sleep so we can be fresh faced and bright eyed when we have to make decisions that’ll effect our overall well-bein’. Dohn-ma?”

(OOC: Assuming there aren’t any questions or continuances to the conversation…)

Morning came earlier than Wyatt would have liked. One foot hanging off his bed, the other with the single blanket he used wrapped around it like a chain, Sung blinked himself awake, the computer alarm sounding his wake up call. It took him a second to sit up, rub the sleep from his eyes, and yawn, then he was stumbling across his bunk, his near-naked form a shadow in the practically non-existent light of his dorm. If he knew Ma, she’d be up already and in the galley preparing something for breakfast. Most likely something to do with the gorram paste! Wyatt thought as he activated the light over his washbasin and stared at his sleep-deprived face. It was getting harder, the lines on his face were deepening, and the hollow look to his eyes were deeper. Turning on the water, he briefly ran some through his hair and splashed his face, then took another look at the face that time was ravaging. Eden would have had trouble recognizing him. The five-o’clock shadow about his jaw, the shadows under his eyes, the lines between his eyebrows caused by his near constant scowl; he was not the same bright-eyed man who’d carried her across the threshold of their tiny ranch house.

Shaking the feeling of loss that threatened to send him back to bed—or worse—Wyatt continued to get ready for the day: showering, shaving, combing his hair and getting dressed. He felt the distinct bareness of his scalp as he no longer had a hat to wear and decided to resolve that matter today. Then, he climbed the ladder steps to the fore deck and made his way to the galley.

At breakfast, he discussed with everyone the plans for their newly earned money. Fifteen hundred credits wouldn’t go far as Wyatt outlined everything they could do with the money. His suggestions were to try and reserve their fuel for the next planetfall, and fill up where the price wasn’t so steep. It was a risk, and would require some less than fancy flying once they were in the sky again, but he thought they could make it should they be conservative. He felt that they’d need to try and take the time for at least a partial maintenance check (read: one of the two they are behind on) lest they find themselves floating in the Black just long enough to die. The mule should be repaired, and then there was the usual maintenance at port, and port fees. Not to mention making sure their food supplies were stocked up, and spending cash for the lot of them. Even though it’d be slim, Wyatt knew they all needed a little R&R, so it was important to give each a little by way of the money the ship had taken in, but he didn’t want to use up all of their cash as they’d definitely have to fuel up at their next stop, so…

• 480 credits for just what needed to be done to keep Rocinante in the air.
• 30 credits for the mule.
• 50 credits for port fees.
• 50 credits to scrub and disinfect the tanks.

That equals 610 credits. 50 credits apiece equates to 300 credits. So, that leaves 590 credits to save for fuel when they land again. Unless, that is, Trish says they need more food supplies. Wyatt knew a new hat would likely cost him somewhere around 3-5 credits, so he wasn’t too concerned about the price of that, but Sam’s ballistic mesh would cost near 50 credits alone, so he might have to lone his friend some money to handle that. Then there was restocking the ammunition. Wyatt figured they’d need to spend roughly 10-20 credits on ammunition to bring them back up to load. All of this meant at least another day in on this dirt ball, but that was a necessity they couldn’t avoid. The last thing he wanted was for everyone to get sick from the poor care of Rocinante.

“So, that’s how the chips fall, y’all,” Wyatt said somewhat glumly as he poked at the skillet-fried protein flapjacks he still had remaining on his plate. “If there ain’t any complaint, I’ll dish out your share, and then I suggest we be on about our various business.

“Willow, you sure you don’t want me to accompany you to this meetin’ with the old shepard?” He knew the answer before he’d even asked the question. When that woman set her mind to something there was no changing it. So, he accepted the answer with a nod. “Fair enough. Asher, you come with me. We’ll swing by an’ pick up Sam, Wolf, an’ the mule, then see what time we have remainin’ before the meeting.”

Rising up from his chair, Wyatt gave Trish a nod, “Right fine breakfast, Ma. You keep this safe now, an’ don’t forget that I have the transmitter on me should you need anything.” They’d long ago established the code to alert Wyatt to various needs that might arise with Trish’s mute condition.

Beylix, Newhouse, Emmett’s Bar, 11:10 am
Andrew entered Emmett’s Bar and looked around. It seemed much larger on the inside than it did on the outside, but that could be because there were so few people in here. There were twenty tables set up in the tavern but only three were occupied. One table had three men playing cards; they look up as the Professor enters but don’t pay him much mind. By their work overalls, dirty complexions and the odd burn scar, Andrew would guess they work in the smelting plant, either just off shift or about to go on. A second table was occupied by a Chinese man, asleep across the back booth. The third has a woman no longer in her prime, but still pretty in her own right. She is dressed up all frilly and is painting her toes when Andrew enters. She is surprised by your appearance but she rights herself and slips her still wet toes into her shoe and steps behind the bar to greet her customer. “Hi y’all. Welcome to Emmett’s Wha’ca ya like?” she asks as she comes up to you. Her frilly dress is peach coloured, clasp held for easy removal and exposes a healthy and enticed amount of cleavage. You doubt she’s the owner.

(assuming you order a drink, maybe small talk)

The bar is decorated in Mahogany board which gives it a dark look even in the mid-day. The place is clean and well cared for, the smell of wood oil and pine can be faintly detected in the air. The floor is carpeted in a burgundy wall to wall rung that has lain here so long than you can tell what seats are more popular by the wear patterns. Near the back is a stairs going upwards which seems to be the most beaten path here.

OOC: If you wish to approach the men playing cards, they will be polite in their greeting but not overtly friendly. Now if you ask to play and show some money for the pot, their attitudes will brighten quickly.

Beylix, Newhouse, Back alley, 11:20 am
Dason Wang regained consciousness. He would have preferred not to, because there was an ugly dwarf wearing hobnailed boots pounding on a drum inside of his head. His jaw hurt, his shoulders hurt, his chest hurt and well, he wasn’t sure there wasn’t anywhere he didn’t hurt.

Easy mark my gorram ass. He thought vaguely remembering that the man he followed into this alley had beaten him up real good. Joo Bah Jeh! I’m sticking to women and children from now on.!

It took a number of tries for Dason to get himself into a sitting position. Once there, he tried to stand but when he did, the dwarf banged harder on the drum and started playing a tuba. He settled for crawling his way to the far side of the alley where there were some boxes and trash he could hide among. Lay low there for awhile until he felt better. After what felt like an eternity, Dason reached the boxes and moved them aside to set up a place to hide. That was when he found the body.

There was a dead man in Dason’s perfectly good hiding spot. Looked like a worker who was on the wrong end of a knife to the belly. Being the man was dead, Dason did the only logical thing he could think of – he checked the pockets for money. Nothing though, whoever killed this .Ri shao gon shi bing already cleaned him out. But dead guy had nice boots though, and Dason thought he could hock those. After some effect he removed the boots and checked the insides – and several folded bills fell out. Jackpot! Thank you Buddha’s little pony Dason tucked the money in his pants pocket without counting it and grabbed the boots. The effort and smell overwhelmed him and he threw up on the dead man; and passed out on the ground beside him.

Beylix, Newhouse, Emmett’s Bar, 11:10 am
Andrew walked into the bar and out of habit he scanned the interior. Being early in the day, the place was sparse on patrons; three men playing cards, a sleeping man who looked oriental, and a woman attending to some ‘maintenance’.

He walks to the bar as she rises and moved to behind the bar; apparently she is the bartender.

“Hi y’all. Welcome to Emmett’s Wha’ca ya like?”
Andrew took off his hat and rested it on the bar as he smiled and sat his bag down next to him on the floor.

“Howdy, Madam!” he says in a warm tone of greeting, “Give me a whiskey please.”

Andrew’s speech was lacking in the slang and Chinese colloquialisms that were common place out here in the Rim and Border Worlds; it was just one of the things that made him stand out among others. His educated tone and bearing revealed a person from the core worlds and seemingly out of place out here.

(Assuming she pours him a drink)

As he waited for her to get his drink he turned and looked over the room and paused to study the three gentleman playing cards. When his drink arrived he turned back to the bartender and pay her for his drink.

“You get many crew members from passing ships in here?” he asked the barmaid, “I’m looking for passage.” He says with a shrug and a handsome smile. Sipping the whiskey he tries not to make a face, he has had better and worse.

(After her response)

He thanks her and taking his stuff and the drink with him he walks over to the men playing cards. Sitting his stuff down next to empty chair he smiles at the men.

“Greetings gentlemen,” he says and gestures to the empty seat, “Mind if I join the game?”

He sits down in the chair and pulls out some of his credits and sits them on the table; raising an eyebrow he gives them a faint smile and waits for them to decide to deal him in on the next hand.

It seemed peaceful, quiet and relaxing here next to miss Brigit, her full breasts resting on his chest. Wuh de ma Wolf though to himself, she was everything they said she was in bed and to believe in the end she had picked him over Sam was almost like a dream..........

Fenris awoke to find himself on his left side in the back of the mule drool mixed with hay having run down his cheek, something hard resting between his legs.

What the guay Fenris thought as he sat up, readjusting his crotch and spitting the crap in his mouth to the ground. He must have been more tired then he thought he was as he climbed out of the mule and headed for the house. Once inside he began looking for Sam or any of the others to see what the day would bring. Hopefully they would be getting off this Shee-niou planet soon like today he could finish the repairs on the mule in space. For some reason he just wanted to be gone from here, not remembering the dream, he readjusted once more wondering how he had become like that, down there....

Rocinante, Regina, Frisco, - 6:00am
The crew woke early with Willow having an early appointment, plus Sam and Fenris arriving home as well. Asher looked a bit tired, and when asked confesses that leaving the man outside just hadn’t sat well with him so he had snuck out in the night to bury the man in the earth behind Rocinante. The disturbed earth near the ship would not seem unusual, and no one would have seen him unless they came up real close.

It is the first time since joining the crew that the mechanic had met Trish. The first meeting of anyone new could be an apprehensive time for the recluse, but Fenris looks right at her scars and deformity with even batting an eye. Had anyone asked, Fenris would have told him or her that he’d seen a lot worse in prison, so not much fazed him.

It was good to have everyone together at the table again and the discussion of money was a lively one.

(Going to leave this open as to whether Sam wants to bring up what he has learned from Brigit. This is important so I don’t want to rush it, but I also want to move forward. There is also the matter of some rum and chocolate you could sell for profit.)

Willow dressed herself up for meeting the old shepherd and left with time to get across town to the temple. At that time of the morning, few were up and about except the inebriated trying to make their way home.

The Temple, Regina, Frisco – 7:00 am
(I am assuming that Willow is traveling alone. If someone does come with her, they will not be allowed to enter. The Tong will be polite, at first, but very firm on this point)

A stone-faced tong guard meets willow at the temple door, and bows to her respectfully. He opens the door to the temple and leads her into a room within, but then closes the door and returns to his post.

The room is oval in shape, and filled with a beautiful kept indoor garden on the left side there is a waterfall built in the curve of the wall, and all around the basin that catches the water are lilies and intertwined ivy. Two flowerbeds stand side by side across the room, with well-sculptured bonsai and miniature fruit trees. The alcove to the left has many roses, all different colours intertwined within their stems and small hidden wires like the bonsai. Hanging baskets seemingly flow from the ceiling, filling the air with the scent of wildflowers and well-tilled earth. Since leaving the Companion Guild house, Willow has rarely seen such beauty.

“It is the beauty within, that few see which truly shows us the measure of a person.”

Willow turns surprised. There, standing beside her as she looked around is the man she saw while crossing the grounds of the temple yesterday. He is a relative of the Shepherd, if not a son or perhaps a grandson. He had short cut dark hair and has a well toned muscular body. He wears a black Gi with a deep red sash across the waist, but bears no weapons. Trained to read people by a single gesture of eye movement, Willow senses great strength in this man - a loyalty that he’d sooner die than break. There is concern in his eyes, not fear but a desire to maintain control so that nothing will slip by him. There is laughter and joy there as well, but it is pushed behind the duty and responsibility he takes on.

“I’m sorry,” he says with a slight bow, “ I did not mean to startle you. I am Lao Tsu. You have an appointment with Grandfather.”

(assuming some form of confirmation)

“You are a very beautiful woman, and you have done me a great service by coming to grandfather’s aid in town.” Words flow from him like poetry. He pauses to look into your eyes – reading you as you read him. “Unfortunately, every Rose has thorns and some are well hidden. I cannot allow you to see grandfather without knowing you pose no threat to him. Will you allow me to search you or shall I send for my sister?”

Emmett’s Bar, Beylix, Newhouse - 11:20 am
Howdy, Madam!” he says in a warm tone of greeting, “Give me a whiskey please.”

The lady pulls down a bottle and shows it to Andrew for approval. It is not high-grade whiskey, but it isn’t rot gut either. She pours him a healthy glass full. “First glass is on the house Mister. What brings you around here?”

“You get many crew members from passing ships in here?” he asked the barmaid, “I’m looking for passage.” He says with a shrug and a handsome smile. Sipping the whiskey he tries not to make a face, he has had better and worse.

“There is always something leaving around here. Some of them can actually fly too.” She says and laughs heartily. “The Port Authority updates about four times a day, you can check with them. I have a link upstairs if you’d like me to show ya.” She says with a less than subtle overtone.

(assuming a no thanks, or maybe later)

He thanks her and taking his stuff and the drink with him he walks over to the men playing cards. “Greetings gentlemen,” he says and gestures to the empty seat, “Mind if I join the game?”

The men look at each other dubiously until Andrew produces the credit notes from his pocket, then the tension drains away easily. “Surly can.” One of the men answers. “I’m Darryl. This here is Bobbie and over here is my brother Doug. Playing straight draw if that suits you. Where you from stranger?”

(you have been dealt two queens (c&s), ace(h), a seven(h) and deuce(d))

Ragtime General Store, Beylix, Newhouse - 11:30 am
Dason walked as casually as he could into the store and placed the boots on the table and most of the credits he had found beside them. He looked at the very pretty brunette behind the counter and smiled as charmingly as he could, “I need a gun, and some ammo.”

Emmett’s Bar, Beylix, Newhouse - 11:20 am

“First glass is on the house Mister. What brings you around here?”
“Why thank you maam.”Andrew said as he took a sip, “Just passing through really.”

“You get many crew members from passing ships in here?” he asked the barmaid, “I’m looking for passage.” He says with a shrug and a handsome smile. Sipping the whiskey he tries not to make a face, he has had better and worse.

“There is always something leaving around here. Some of them can actually fly too.” She says and laughs heartily. “The Port Authority updates about four times a day, you can check with them. I have a link upstairs if you’d like me to show ya.” She says with a less than subtle overtone.
“Maybe later sweetie,” He said with a wink as he walked away with his drink towards the poker table.

“Mind if I join the game?”

The men look at each other dubiously until Andrew produces the credit notes from his pocket, then the tension drains away easily. “Surly can.” One of the men answers. “I’m Darryl. This here is Bobbie and over here is my brother Doug. Playing straight draw if that suits you. Where you from stranger?”
“I’m sort of a wanderer,” he said as he picked up his cards and looked them over, “right now I’m looking for passage on a ship.”

He calmly looked at his hand, his face a mask of indifference showing no emotion; Andrew wasn’t a pro but he had a great poker face.

“I open for 10 credits.” he said sliding his money out there along with his ante.

After everyone had called, or raised (he will call any reasonable raises); he would throw 2 cards away, “two please!” (Throwing out the seven and the deuce)

As he looked over his new draws he attempted to strike up a conversation, “So are you gentlemen all from Beylix?”

Rocinante, Regina, Frisco, - 6:00am
Wyatt felt a particular loneliness while sitting at the table in the galley as each member of his crew settled in with their usual g’mornin’s and such. It weren’t for the lack of company so much as the fact that he had no hat. If he’d been willing to do a little deeper prospectin’ into that brainpan of his, he might’ve come to the conclusion that everything that had happened the past few days had left him tired. When tired, his emotional defenses were less than capable of staving off the constant assault against his Id by Depression and loss. It’s what had driven him to the bottle in the first place after Eden and Summer’s murders. He’d spent so much time locked in visions of their last few minutes that he’d lost the ability to sleep. Traumatic insomnia, the doc had called it just after he’d signed on with the Browncoats. He couldn’t escape the horrors of war, nor the disaster his personal life had endured and the only method of coping he’d been able to find was amber in color.

Of course, he was past that now…wasn’t he?

“We’re glad t’ have you two back,” Wyatt said, breaking the relative silence and nodding to Sam and Fenris as he spoke. They’d arrived just before Trish had served up and though the greetings had already taken place, Sung couldn’t help but reiterate. He felt greatly relieved to have the group back together again and knitted up at that.

“Willow, you sure you don’t want me to accompany you to this meetin’ with the old shepherd?” Sung asked turning his attention to the ship doctor. Receiving the answer he’d suspected, the captain of Rocinante looked back over the rest of the table. “All right, then. So as I see it we’ve a right busy day ahead of us.

“Willow. When you finish up at your meetin’ would you mind seeing if we can’t find a buyer fer all that rum and those chocolates—I know, I know. We all would love t’ sample some of them wares, but Rocinante needs some work and every extra credit’ll do us some good.” Turning to Fenris, Sung addressed the big man with a little less familiarity. “I’d appreciate it if you could give Rocinante a once over and determine what all needs to be done to make sure we don’t spring a leak in the Black. I’ll set aside some credits so’s you can arrange t’ have the tanks cleaned and perform what maintenance you can. Somethin’ ‘tween five hundred and five-fifty should do it.”

(OOC: assuming an affirmative response.)

“Oh, and make sure that mule get’s taken care of too, will ya? All right, that leaves the port fees and such—I’ll handle that on our way to the town meeting.” Glancing at Asher and Dash, Wyatt raised his eyebrows. “I’m assumin’ the two of you’ll be joining me at the town meeting?”

(OOC: again, assuming some kind of affirmative response.)

“Good. Then we’ll swing by the port authority once we get our fill here, an’ after that we’ll hit the main street an’ see if I can’t get me a new hat, while Asher picks up our ammunition, an’ Sam replaces that shirt they made Swiss cheese outta.”

Pushing his finished meal aside, Wyatt settled back in his chair. “I ain’t missing nothin’ am I? Oh, yeah! Here,” The captain reached into his jacket pocket and produced credits to go around. “Fifty apiece for the time being. Sorry it ain’t more, but we gotta make sure we can git t’ the next mudball, an’ we’re not fueling up here.

“OK, so now am I missin’ somethin’?”

It had been a long night, but at least it was over. Willow had worried over Sam being away from the ship, and the memory of the dead bounty hunter haunted her thoughts…as well as her nostrils. She’d gone outside with the others when the ship had been rocked by the full engine take-off, and she’d been the one to realize he’d been shot dead before the blast had hit him. It was then that the smell penetrated her concentration, the charred, sickly sweet smell of cooked flesh. Her stomach turned, and it was all she could do not to retch. Even after she’d returned to the ship and cleaned up, the smell lingered on her, and she’d finally used her next day’s wash water ration to wash herself, scrubbing until her skin and scalp tingled. It was a long time before she could make herself sleep.

Her morning alarm chimed all too soon, and she began the careful process to ready herself for her meeting with the Shepherd. The sapphire cheongsam was perfect for a daytime appointment requiring modest dress; its high collar and long skirt left only her arms bare, with brief flashes of leg through the slits that barely made walking possible. She did up the tiny buttons running up the right side seam of the dress, drawing the masterfully tailored dress close to her willowy figure.

A jade bracelet and tiny jade earrings, all matching her eyes, were her only adornment, besides her butterfly pin holding her silken hair up off her neck. Likewise, her makeup was light and tasteful, a touch of gold dust around the eyes and peach lipstick. Fortunately, her long night didn’t show on her face, and she needed little else to look fresh and dewy-eyed.

“You almost look like the dutiful daughter,” she told her reflection, who crossed her eyes and stuck her tongue out. Laughing merrily, she made her way to the kitchen and greeted everyone warmly, exclaiming happily over Sam’s return and welcoming Fenris to the ship. When Asher told them about burying the dead man, Willow had the blink away a sudden welling of tears. She hugged the surprised gunfighter and kissed him on the forehead, making him blush furiously. “You’re a good man, Asher Talhone, a good man.”

“I’ll want you to come see me in the medical bay after I return from my appointment, Fenris, dear,” she smiled at the new ship’s mechanic,seating herself at the table, and pouring tea for any who wanted some” I need a complete physical and full medical history for every crew member, so I know what I’m starting with before you start getting yourself shot at. Oh no, Auntie, no flapjacks for me. I’ll pop a button or two if I have more than a sip of miso today.”

True to her word, she sipped tea and had a few spoonfuls of miso while the Captain spoke of the day’s tasks. She nodded at the reminder about the chocolate and rum, and shook her head ruefully at the implication that she’d rather keep the chocolate. She accepted the 50 credits (there may just be a decent shop or two in town after all) and declined the offer of an escort. “The Tong would lose serious face by letting anything happen to me, Captain-San. I would insult them by bringing along “protection.””

At the appointed time, Willow made her way to the temple, where she was shown to an inner room. She was delighted with the secret garden, and was gently stroking a rose petal against her cheek (which of the two could be softer or smoother?) when a man spoke from behind her.

“It is the beauty within, that few see which truly shows us the measure of a person.”

Willow whirled around smoothly to see the man she’d seen yesterday, the one with an air of authority. He wore it as clearly as the red sash on his gi, but Willow could see signs of laughter in the creases around his eyes.

“It takes a strong person to reveal that which is kept private. I thank you for the gift of time in this garden. It revives my soul, “Willow responded carefully, with an incline of her head. The man bowed slightly in acknowledgement.

I’m sorry,” he said, “ I did not mean to startle you. I am Lao Tsu. You have an appointment with Grandfather.”

“Indeed,” Willow agreed,” at the first light, as he wished. May I see him now?”

You are a very beautiful woman, and you have done me a great service by coming to grandfather’s aid in town,” Lao Tsu said smoothly, his words as silk on her skin. Willow felt his eyes looking into hers, and seeing through to her soul. “Unfortunately, every Rose has thorns and some are well hidden. I cannot allow you to see grandfather without knowing you pose no threat to him. Will you allow me to search you or shall I send for my sister?”

The former Companion didn’t answer immediately, taking her time to consider her options and take the measure of the man before her. Her decision made, she smiled warmly holding her arms away from her sides, an invitation to pat her down.

“I thank you for the courtesy, but do not disturb your sister. I have never had fear of a man’s touch, and that’s not going to change now. But before you do,” she stopped him with a gesture before raising her hands to her hair and removing the butterfly pin,” take this without touching the tip, and you will have my one thorn.”

She held the butterfly pin out with both hands, as her hair tumbled down to fall about her shoulders. “I am under your protection now, Lao Tsu.”

The Temple, Regina, Frisco – 7:10 am
“I am under your protection now, Lao Tsu.”

He accepts the pin with a smile that reads of knowledge and mirth at the same time. He gives Willow a bow in honour of her actions and then begins his search of her with swiftness. Across the arms and the back of her neck, his fingers breeze across her clothing and flesh, barely making contact – like a warm breeze across the skin. Down Willows back, his hands were stronger, but not rough. Like the hands of a well-trained masseuse, his touch triggered waves of relaxation and peace across her back.

Then he moves to Willow’s legs and his touch became a seductive caress, releasing waves of desire and passion from within the doctor. Her stroked her inner thighs down to her ankles with the lightest of touches and back up the outer legs across her hips and stomach to end just below her chest. Willow found herself breathing a little heavy as Lao Tsu stepped back and wishing that she could find a dignified reason to ask him to search her again.

“You may enter now.” He said with a bow and gesture to the door. “Grandfather awaits you.”

Through a set of oak doors carved in relief to look like an extension of the garden, Willow enters into an inner sanctum. The room is fragrance with lavender and floral scents, but the plants are all hanging from the ceiling. The room itself is sparsely furnished, with Mats for kneeling and a few long round cushions. The old man sits across from the doorways, about 20 feet away from Willow as she enters. In between Willow and the old man is a wooden chess set on a small stand. The workmanship of the board and pieces is nothing less than beautiful, yet the white king is missing from the board.

“Do you play, Miss Takahara?” the old man asked.


Ragtime General Store, Beylix, Newhouse – 12:00 am
Dason left the general store with a rusty Ruger 22 with a full clip. The lady inside was really pretty but she drove a tough deal when she knew that the person in question was in a hurry. But he didn’t care – he had a job to do and then he’d be back on easy street. He walked down the street, putting the pistol in his pocket so not to draw too much attention, and headed towards Emmett’s Bar.

Emmett’s Bar, Beylix, Newhouse – 12:05 am
Andrew looked at the pile of chips he had in front of him and then at his cards. He had won the first couple of hands with the workers but then the pots went back and forth for a while. Now, Darryl was in for 25 credits and Doug had raised 10. 35 credits to him with a whole lot of nothing unless he discarded one and took the chance on an inside straight. But if he didn’t get the 9, then …

Someone entered the bar behind him. Andrew glanced over his shoulder, but it wasn’t anyone who he knew or looked particularly important. He turned his attention to the cards again.

click
He knew the sound of a gun hammer being cocked back, and his instincts took over, Long ago, Andrew had learned that best to react fast, even if you were sure you were the target. His gun was in hand and leveled before the barmaid had started screaming.

Emmett’s Bar, Beylix, Newhouse – 12:05 am
“35 to me huh?” Andrew said as he looked over his cards and considered calling. He had only a slight chance at an inside straight and was thinking about calling the raise and then taking his chances. If he didn’t get card he needed then he could always bluff; he had a great poker face and wasn’t above taking the chance.

He heard the front door open and glanced over his left shoulder and saw a man enter; not recognizing him he turned back to inspecting his cards.

click, click
His eyes snapped up; he recognized that sound, a revolver cocking. Andrew Bowman had survived by not taking chances when the bullets started to fly; that was why he had honed his lightning reflexes and became one of the fastest draws in the Border worlds.

The sound had come from behind him, it had to be the man who just entered. He didn’t know if the man was after him or someone else, but bullets were indiscriminate killers, they didn’t care if they hit the wrong target.

Within half a second of the sound; Andrew had pushed back with his foot tipping his chair backwards as his right hand reached down to his left hip. Drawing his Sound-suppressed Avenger revolver from the cross-draw holster before his chair hit the floor and leveled it at the man that had just entered.

If he saw a gun in the man’s hand, he would fire off a double-tap at the center mass of his target. A faint Phft phft sound as the suppressed revolver bucked was all that was heard by those in the room.

If no gun was present, Andrew would keep the gun leveled at the man waiting to see if the situation deteriorated.