Day Three, Newhouse Jail, Beylix, 10:45 am
The door opened again and Andrew Bowman peeled his eyes away from the fascinating sight of the 'suits' and watched as someone else entered. His eyes nearly bulged when he recognized the dusty figure that strode in; Wyatt Sung. He found this sight more fascinating than the last, here was the man that had married his dear Eden. He hadn't seen either of them since...¬ oh when was it... before the war. Yes. After their wedding he had visited them on the farm a couple times but then fate, and the war, had not allowed him time to visit anyone and he had heard that Wyatt had been killed in the war.

As the 'suits' tied up the attention of Deputy Weaver, and maybe the Sheriff if he is there, Andrew stepped up to the bars and took hold of them and raised his voice just enough so that Wyatt should be able to hear him but the others should not.

"Chou shen mao dai gu xiang," he said softly.

Andrew didn't care for the custom of speaking Chinese that most on the outer rim had adopted, but he knew a little bit and that particular phrase he knew Wyatt would recognize. Literally translated is meant: 'See what cat bring home'; it was the Chinese equivalent of 'Look what the cat dragged in'.

Wyatt had said those same words to him when he had visited their farm to see how they were fairing. Andrew had liked Wyatt from the start and knew that Eden and he were good for each other; thinking of Eden he wondered why Wyatt was here so far away from the Farm?

(OOC: Ok, I didn't think Andrew knew of Eden's fate since he has been isolated from those he knows because of his circumstances and his habit of not dragging family and acquaintances into his affairs. If he would have known somehow, then let me know and I will amend my post later.)

Newhouse, Beylix, 10:35 am Day Three
As Wolf pulled the Mule close to the front door of the Beylix jail to let Wyatt and Sam off, he was already looking for a place to park it. After what had happened at the Regina bank he wanted to keep the ’gateway car’ as close as possible in case of a jail break. Finding such a place proved a little bit of a challenge but soon he had the Mule parked and was on his way to join up with Wyatt, a smile on his face at the thought of such a jail break actually happening.

Hell after spoiling a bank robbery, anything was possible
Checking his 2 Beretta pistol SMG’s in their shoulder holsters and the sawed off pump shotgun on his back he was ready for anything.

Nothing ever goes to plan….

It began as a short run to a comet mine, given to you by a friend who wanted to pay a debt. Now you were on Beylix, playing escort to three men looking to buy a sheriff. John Blake – the Banker who assets Sam saved by stopping a robbery. C.C. Fiddler – Frisco Hotel owner, and A.E. (Sherm) Sherman – a Merchant. They were there to find a man named Like Pearson who was likely to be wanting to be a sheriff. At least, Someone had suggested that – Brigit you think.

Brigit Trousdale – the School Teacher who seemed to always be in trouble, or around it. Yet somehow never the cause, or at least it seemed that way. She was engaged to JW but certainly wasn’t playing the faithful wife yet.

You had other passengers as well. Chad Sloat, the mining guild man was all prickly about the contents of his lock box and as soon as you could say depressurized, he was out like a shot and heading towards the Mining Guild Office. As for the other passenger, pretty boy James (Jimmy) Blake, son of the Banker – he was getting all gussied up when you left, like he flew all this way for a date.

Not that it meant a hill of beans to Captain Wyatt. They paid their fees and he was doing his job to get them here and back. But the plan to grab a sheriff, get back to the ship, fly by Regina and drop of the passengers and sheriff via the shuttle so that you could scoot back to the lullabelle mine and grab a shipment of ice – didn’t leave time for much dilly dally. The money was good though if you got it, with JW guaranteeing payment and good honest jobs were hard to beat.

Your PR man Asher Talhone had stayed behind on Regina to watch over the town and keep an eye on the shuttle when it landed. Asher was a good man with a gun, but hopefully he wouldn’t let himself get caught with his pants down.


Day Three, Newhouse Jail, Beylix, 10:46 am
John, CC, and Sherm entered the jail house that also served as the sheriff office. A young gentleman with a star on his shirt came forward to meet them.

“Excuse me?” John Blake spoke up, “We are looking for Deputy Luke Pearson?”

The deputy looked over the men in disbelief and then said, “Ahh, he’s not here right now. What’s your business with Luke?”

John cleared his throat, “We are looking for a sheriff for our town – Frisco…on Regina?”

“Oh.” The deputy says and then smiles broadly, “Oh! Well have a seat! He’ll be by soon enough and let me say that you couldn’t find a more…ah…dedicated lawman as a sheriff. You want coffee?”

Wyatt and Sam enter behind the gentleman and hear the tail end of conversation. The jailhouse is neat and clean, with only two men currently being held in the back. One of the stands up as you enter and at that moment, his eyes and Wyatt lock.

"Chou shen mao dai gu xiang," he said softly, and Wyatt recognizes a familiar face in the last place he expected it. Andrew Bowman?! What was he doing here and why was he in jail?

Day Three, Rocinante, Beylix spaceport, 10:40 am
Willow was in a bind. She had to get out to this Emmett’s bar and find this Benny Xiau who had the chess piece that the Tong’s Grandfather charged her with finding. But she wasn’t about to wander a smelting town unescorted. She wondered to herself for the umpteenth time if she should have told the Captain.

It was then that James Blake passed through the galley, dressed in a dark blue business suit that spoke of wealth and tailoring. His clothing spoke volumes to Willow as did his strut and smug look. Jimmy was off to do something he thought was very important and something secret as well. Although she couldn’t have said why, Willow intuition said “Brigit” to her.

This was an opportunity that Willow couldn’t let go by.

Day Three, Outside Newhouse Jail, Beylix, 10:47 am
Wolf parked the mule and checked his weapons. He moved across the roadway towards the jail when he spotted another man moving towards the jailhouse. He was a balding middle age man with two pistols, a gold star on his chest and a shotgun in hand. Not knowing why, Wolf decided to stop to tie his bootlace and let the man enter before him.

Hell after spoiling a bank robbery, anything was possible

Day Three, Newhouse Jail, Beylix, 10:46 am
“…Let me say that you couldn’t find a more…ah…dedicated lawman as a sheriff. You want coffee?”

Wyatt stepped inside the law office just in time to catch the last statement, his booted feet hitting the wood floor with heavy thuds. John, CC, and Sherm were already inside, and Wyatt’s previous apprehension about the three of them scootin’ off without proper protection—protection for the payment Sung was expecting upon their safe return—subsided, replaced by a swelling nervousness within his gut. This was, after all, a lawman’s domain, and Rocinante had been forced to run its share of illegal operations in its time.

Captain Sung threw a glance Sam’s way with brows coming together and thinned lips before scanning the room logging everything that could possibly be used as cover should a fight break out, ready melee weapons, or quick escape routes, waving off the offer for coffee. That’s when he noticed Andrew.

”Chou shen mao dai gu xiang.”
It took some doing to not allow the surprise he felt to register on deeply tanned face as their eyes locked. Andrew had been a relative of Eden’s…not just any relative either. Andrew had been Eden’s favorite. Wyatt had taken a liking to him as well in the short time they’d had the opportunity to converse before Andrew had kicked off planet. Once the shock dissipated at the sight of the sharply dressed man Wyatt felt awash with the harsh recognition of loss. After Eden and Summer’s deaths Wyatt had coped by turning to liquor and bar fights fueled by revenge. It hadn’t been an edifying experience and had very nearly cost him his life. Since then, waking hours consisted of a constant struggle not to allow himself to sink back into the depression and drink by throwing himself into the ship, crew, and whatever job they could muster. The captain had found that he needed to retire to his cabin only once he’d become so exhausted he’d fall right to sleep or else he’d find the dark shadows of his past creeping up on him through the bulkhead. The sight of Andrew Bowman and the all too familiar greeting released the demons en force, and with a vengeance Wyatt Sung could barely fight.

“Fate Gwai Ma Jeow, (threw in a monkey wrench) Sam ,” Wyatt muttered under his breath as he took a second to shore up against the onslaught of emotion he suddenly felt. Stepping away from the rest of the group towards the cell, he surprised even himself as he found a soft smile.

”Rung Tse Fwo Tzoo Bao Yo Wuo Muhn! (Merciful Buddha protect us!) If it ain’t Mr. Andrew Bowman,” Wyatt drawled easily enough stopping a couple of paces from the bars so as not to provoke a reaction from the lawman, the smile still on his face. Tilting the brim of his hat back to reveal his eyes and forehead, he glanced back at Sam. “This here’s one of the last people I’d ever expect to find in a ruttin’ jail cell, Sam. Andrew’s about the most honest Wong Ba Duhn I’ve ever met.

“Yer too Shwie (handsome) to be rottin’ away in this dump, Andrew. What’re they holdin’ you for?”

Between the Kid stayin’ behind to play lawman and the way it set Ma off, the wave from Tink that went and set his twitchy to twitchin’ more than usual, and all them suits skitterin’ about all greenhorn like, eatin’ up the food, takin’ up space, and suckin’ up oxygen that Sam was convinced was entirely wasted on more than one of ‘em, the days in the Black between Regina and Beylix hadn’t done Sam’s disposition much good. Even so, the pilot figured he’d done a pretty ruttin’ good job at keepin’ himself on an even keel… hadn’t even thrown that annoyin’ Jimmy kid the proper beatin’ he deserved when he went and hurt Trish’s feelin’s… but now they had set to port in Beylix and were baby-sittin’ them suits on a trip to the Sheriff’s Office…

Sam hated Beylix. Gorram junkyard of the ‘Verse. The rock where he once thought he’d finally manage to slip the Alliance (or whoever the wang bah duhn as wanted him kilt was) and get a handle on a decent livin’ with no worries of wakin’ up dead. It hadn’t worked out that way, of course. They had found him here, too, and gotten close enough that Sam got himself into a desperate hitch to burn atmo… and ended up with Wyatt and Rocinante…

“…Let me say that you couldn’t find a more…ah…dedicated lawman as a sheriff. You want coffee?”

Sam lingered close to the door when they had entered the Sheriff’s, his gaze perpetually skimming the place with a scrutiny derived of practice and paranoia, thumbs hooked loosely in his gunbelt so as his pistol wouldn’t be far from hand if the mi tian gohn hit the fan. He caught the Cap’s glance and nodded before scanning the room again. “I still hate this ruttin’ dump,” he grumbled despite an almost nostalgic smirk that had scrawled itself across his scruffy features.

”Chou shen mao dai gu xiang.”

Dash’s smirk twisted a bit and his gaze ticked to the tall, mustached fellow that was currently enjoying the hospitalities of Newhouse’s Graybar Hotel. He was all set to make some wise-alec comment about the guy having been arrested for dressin’ to fine for Beylix when he noticed the look of stunned-recognition on Wyatt’s face… It was more than just an ‘Hey, I know you’ expression, too… More like a seen-a-ghost-long-lost-family-holy-s**t-what-the-hell-are-you-doin’-here thing… and it was enough to get Dash to bite his tongue and spike a curious brow instead.

“Fate Gwai Ma Jeow, Sam ,” Wyatt muttered.

“Th’ bitch’s gotta way o’ doin’ that, Cap,” Dash nodded, his gaze ticking between the prisoner, the lawman, and the Captain as Wyatt smiled and strolled towards the cell.

”Rung Tse Fwo Tzoo Bao Yo Wuo Muhn! (Merciful Buddha protect us!) If it ain’t Mr. Andrew Bowman,” Wyatt drawled easily enough stopping a couple of paces from the bars so as not to provoke a reaction from the lawman, the smile still on his face. Tilting the brim of his hat back to reveal his eyes and forehead, he glanced back at Sam. “This here’s one of the last people I’d ever expect to find in a ruttin’ jail cell, Sam. Andrew’s about the most honest Wong Ba Duhn I’ve ever met.”

“I was figgerin’ as he got put in the pokey fer them fine duds, Cap,” Dash grinned, offering a shrug, “This is Beylix, after all, puhn yoh. Folks been hanged round here fer a lot less, I’m bettin’.”

He offered Andrew a nod and an amicable twitch of a grin; “Pleezdameetcha, Andy.”

Willow watched the mule with her menfolk drive away without her, tapping her parasol on the ship’s deck in annoyance. Here she was, all dressed up, with somewhere to go, and no escort to get her there. Of course she was capable of walking around by herself in most places, but Newhouse could be a bit rough, and she just might be a little too tempting on her own.

“Not that I didn’t try for simple and respectable,” she murmured, checking out her blurry reflection on the bulkhead wall. The slim black pencil skirt may have followed her curves closely, but most of Willow’s clothes did, and while the white blouse would be almost sheer in the sunlight, the dove gray silk vest buttoned over it covered anything she wasn’t willing to share. Her long hair was demurely done up in a bun, topped by a grey chapeau and netted veil that obscured her features slightly, but served to emphasize the perfection of her lips. Matching gloves and boots completed the picture of a lady of moderate means, exactly what Willow hoped would be good for a day in Newhouse.

James bustled by on his way out of the ship, and Willow brightened. The boy was a selfish twit, and mean, to boot, but vain and easily swayed. Willow’s smile was almost predatory as she glided after the popinjay, sliding her arm into his as if she’d always been there.

“James, darling,” she purred,” I almost gave up waiting for you. Where shall we go first? You look like you have somewhere to be, but perhaps you could take helpless little me to Emmet’s Bar, afterwards? I’m ever so thirsty for something that wasn’t distilled in the engine block.”

Day Three, Newhouse Jail, Beylix, 10:50 am
The deputy looked over at Wyatt and Sam talking to Andrew. “I’m sorry gentlemen, I thought you were together with them.” He says pointing the coffee pot towards the Frisco businessmen.

“They are with us.” Blake replied, following the end of the coffee pot with his cup.

“Well, they’re with us but they aren’t part of us.” Shem corrected

“I think that the arrangement and their willingness to assist in this endeavour is more than enough to show some solidarity in our businesses.” Blake retorted dismissively.

“Huh?” the deputy looked back and forth.

Cha-chung The door opens and the sound of a shotgun pump draws everyone’s attention to the man who walked into the room, a balding middle age man with a gold star on his chest. “What I would like to know is what your business is!” he says loudly and with an accent. “Excuse gentleman standing near the prisoners! May I ask you to please step back and disarm yourselves before approaching your captured acquaintance? He seems like a very well mannered man but I’d rather not dangle a carrot before him or anyone else awaiting due process.” The sheriff glares at the deputy who looks sheepishly towards his shoes before turning.

“Sorry folks. I should have said something but my attention was diverted. Just step back over here and put the guns on the counter if you want to speak to Mr Bowman.”

The sheriff looks over to the three businessmen, “So what’s your story?”

“They want to hire Luke to be their sheriff in their hometown” the Deputy calls over before anyone can answer.

He looks to the Deputy and then to the three, and back again. His face changes from its harsh glare to joy “Really! Well I can’t say that you’d find a better, more upstanding individual. Would you like coffee? Something harder perhaps after all, it is a bit of the celebration.”

Outside the jailhouse, Wolf decided to sit tight and wait. There was no reason to think there would be trouble, but if there was, being on the outside would prevent any nasty surprises. He moved closed to the doorway to better hear inside, looking around for people as he did.

Day Three, Rocinante, Beylix spaceport, 10:45 am
“James, darling,” Willow purred,” I almost gave up waiting for you. Where shall we go first? You look like you have somewhere to be, but perhaps you could take helpless little me to Emmet’s Bar, afterwards? I’m ever so thirsty for something that wasn’t distilled in the engine block.”

James was clearly startled by Willow’s words. His face showed the fear as clear as the sunlight. “How did you know…” He trailed off and cleared his throat. In the back of his mind he was having an internal conflict but he seemed to resolved it, “Why of course, my lovely lady. I understand completely now that we are no longer in the Black and your over protective band of brothers aren’t around anymore. As it just happens, I am going to that establishment myself for some personal business, and with you by my side, it can only go better for me. Shall we go then?” he says offering his arm.

Day Three, Newhouse Jail, Beylix, 10:50 am
“I’m sorry gentlemen, I thought you were together with them,” the deputy said as he looked over at Wyatt and Sam while pointing the coffee pot towards the Frisco businessmen.

“They are with us.” Blake replied before Wyatt could. The captain returned his mask of indifference to its rightful place as he turned his attention to the deputy just as Shem interjected his opinion.

“Well, they’re with us but they aren’t part of us.” Shem corrected. Sung didn’t bother to correct him as he thoroughly agreed with the assessment. After all, they were passengers on Rocinante and while they were under his protection as such, Wyatt held nothin’ over for them besides such.

“I think that the arrangement and their willingness to assist in this endeavour is more than enough to show some solidarity in our businesses.” Blake retorted dismissively.

“Huh?” the deputy looked back and forth between the two men, but before further explanation could be made to the obviously befuddled man the door swung open.

Cha-chung
The sound of a shotgun pump drew everyone’s attention to the man who had just walked into the room: a balding middle age man with a gold star on his chest. Wyatt’s hand had found the smooth grip of his colt, but he hadn’t drawn being able to resist the urge the instant that shiny badge flashed in his eye.

“What I would like to know is what your business is!” The sheriff barked loudly with an English accent. “Excuse me gentleman standing near the prisoners! May I ask you to please step back and disarm yourselves before approaching your captured acquaintance? He seems like a very well mannered man but I’d rather not dangle a carrot before him or anyone else awaiting due process.” The sheriff glared at the deputy who looked sheepishly towards his shoes before turning back to his previous task and offering up an excuse to the troop from Frisco.

“Sorry folks. I should have said something but my attention was diverted. Just step back over here and put the guns on the counter if you want to speak to Mr Bowman.”

Wyatt stepped back a respectable distance, but made no move to disarm himself. Instead, he took in the nicely dressed sheriff with an appraising eye, like he might be looking at a new part for Roc. He placed the weapons on the man, both carried and strapped, and tried to gauge the man’s ability by the way he carried himself. The whole while absolutely positive that the sheriff took notice of the scrutiny—and the refusal to disarm—but chose to impart his attention on the businessmen instead of addressing that particular situation for the moment.

“So what’s your story?” The sheriff asked of the three men, his lilting accent hanging in the air momentarily while they individually concocted their answers.

“They want to hire Luke to be their sheriff in their hometown” the deputy called over before anyone could reply.

The sheriff passed his gaze between the deputy and the businessmen, back again, his face changing from its harsh glare to joy, “Really! Well I can’t say that you’d find a better, more upstanding individual. Would you like coffee? Something harder perhaps after all, it is a bit of the celebration.”

Though Wyatt’s face remained impassive, his inner eye narrowed. It really didn’t concern him all that much who took the post of Lawman in Frisco so long as he got paid and could pick up some new cargo keeping them that were important to him flying and fed. It was instinctual really; that feeling that something was amiss.

First there was Bowman all locked up pretty like, and then there was the fact that for all they were sayin’ the pair o’ lawmen standing in the room with them were awful eager to get rid of this Luke fella. To Wyatt’s mind, if a person was worth their salt then there weren’t no way he’d want to be rid of them ‘less something was broke.

“Pardon, Sheriff,” Sung interjected as he waved off any offer of drink and decided to wait upon meeting this Luke character before folding, or showing his cards. “This feller you have in your mighty fine hospitality…what’s he being duly processed over? If’n you don’t mind me askin’, that is.”

James blinked at Willow a few times, his handsome features marred by the slack surprise. “How did you know” he stammered and Willow realized that Emmett’s bar was as much his destination as hers. Before she could interject a distraction, James came to a decision, his expression becoming almost cartoonishly crafty.

“Why of course, my lovely lady. I understand completely now that we are no longer in the Black and your over protective band of brothers aren’t around anymore. As it just happens, I am going to that establishment myself for some personal business, and with you by my side, it can only go better for me. Shall we go then?” he says offering his arm.

Willow smiled agreeably, though inside, her heart sank, just that little bit. James’ comment about no longer being chaperoned by her crew didn’t worry her (Willow was always in command of the when and where of her liaisons, and this peacock of a boy wasn’t about to out-manoeuvre her!), but it would mean careful handling of his expectations. She had to wonder, however, that James and hers business dovetailed so neatly – perhaps too much so. She wasn’t nearly as skittish as the Captain-san, but sometimes a coincidence could be a connection you couldn’t quite see.

“I can help you?” Willow responded brightly, wondering what she had just gotten herself into.

”Are you doing something important? Oh, I bet it is! Do tell me, James, I find important men are oh so… ” and here her voice dropped to a throaty purr,”irresistible!”

Cha-chung!
Half distracted by the bulls*** and politics going on between their passengers and the lawman and distracted still more by trying to figure out the skinny between Wyatt and this Andy fella – They’s more’n jus’ passin’ acquaintances, I figger, just by settin’ eyes to ‘em. An’ it ain’t reg’lar fer Wyatt ta be broadwavin’ compliments as such… – Sam visibly flinched when the sheriff clipped into the room and jacked the slide on that shotgun. The pilot wasn’t as quick to stop himself as Wyatt had been, either, and had the Avenger half clear of its holster before he had spun around and reckoned the shiny bit of metal on the man’s chest for what it was…

“Ta ma duh,” Dash blinked, instantly freeing the weapon from his grip and letting it fall back into the holster and lifting his hands high as he forced himself out of the low, gunslinger’s crouch he had spun into. His eyes were wide and wild and, as they darted nervously from face to face, body to body, it was likely obvious to most that he was having a real difficult go of keeping his hands off his iron… or making a break for the door… or both…

“What in the gorram hell’re you thinkin’, puhn yoh?!” he grumbled nervously, keeping his trembling arms well out to his sides as he edged away from the cell, “Come a-stompin’ in a place rackin’ shells inta dog-humpin’ Betsy’s brother an’ gettin’ a fella all twitchy! Ni Ta Ma De! Tian Xia Suo You De Ren Dou Gai Si!”

His jumping gaze met Wyatt’s then… the Cap’s expression was flat, his eyes hard but, somehow still calming as they bore into him and spoke words in Sam’s head that hadn’t passed Wyatt’s lips…

Back down on that throttle, Sam. Everythin’s ku….
…The near imperceptible shake of Wyatt’s head was answered, after a somewhat exasperated sigh, by a similarly faint nodding of Sam’s. The paranoid set of the pilot’s features visibly faded a respectable bit and, even though he still trembled a mite as he continued to stalk away from the holding cell, it seemed as if he wasn’t so skeptical about not having drawing his pistol. “Sorry bout that,” Dash smirked, his face reddening a bit and hands lowering just a fraction as he moved even farther away from Andy, “just ain’t had a real good run o’ luck with guns an’ inside an’ s*** lately, get me?

Someone say somethin’ about coffee… or whiskey?

Gorramit…”

Day Three, Newhouse Jail, Beylix, 11:00 am
The sheriff seems to relax a bit, even goes as far as putting down his shotgun to reach into the cabinet and bring out a bought of fine whiskey.

“What in the gorram hell’re you thinkin’, puhn yoh?!” Samgrumbled nervously, “Come a-stompin’ in a place rackin’ shells inta dog-humpin’ Betsy’s brother an’ gettin’ a fella all twitchy! Ni Ta Ma De! Tian Xia Suo You De Ren Dou Gai Si!”

“Oh. I am so sorry about that. Think of it as an occupational hazard of being a sheriff. I find that if you go in any situation expecting trouble, then chances are you can only be mildly disappointed when you don’t find any. Drink?”

“Pardon, Sheriff,” Sung interjected as he waved off any offer of drink and decided to wait upon meeting this Luke character before folding, or showing his cards. “This feller you have in your mighty fine hospitality…what’s he being duly processed over? If’n you don’t mind me askin’, that is.”

“Ah, yes. Mr. Bowman is in for murder. He claims self –defence and most of the evidence points that way but there is a slight problem of witnesses not seeing a gun in the other man’s hand and a complete lack of motivation for said man to be trying to kill Mr. Bowman. I take it you know each other? Did the Kessel run in less than 12 parses together or some thing like that I’d imagine.”

“Excuse me?” John Blake interrupted, “when might we meet Mr. pearson so we can proceed with our business arrangements?”

“Hmm?” the sheriff looked at the banker, “Oh yes. Ken, would you run out and rustle up Luke for these here gentleman?”

“Sure thing Sheriff.” Weaver replies, as he gets up and heads for the door.

Day Three, Outside Newhouse Jail, Beylix, 11:00 am
Wolf steps back as the door opens and the deputy almost barrels him down from running so fast. The lawman spares a polite nod to the mechanic before taking off down the street hollering “Luke! Luke! There some people to see you!”

Since the door is open and the inside is looking more casual like, Wolf enters the jailhouse, looking over to Wyatt for a cue as to whether everything is alright. The Captain has a air of tenseness around him, but Wolf can rightly remember when the Captain didn’t look tense.


Day Three, Leaving Rocinante, Beylix spaceport, 11:00 am
Are you doing something important? Oh, I bet it is! Do tell me, James, I find important men are oh so… ” Willow’s voice dropped to a throaty purr, “irresistible!”

“Very important,” James says secretively, “But I can’t tell you any detail or else B…, I mean I wouldn’t want to endanger you by telling you too much.”

As you walk away from the ship and head down the main street of Newhouse, Jimmy goes on to tell you that he is meeting a man at this Bar, who has some sort of key that Jimmy plans on buying from him. He seems to believe that this key will lead to great adventures and wealth for him but he is very vague as to the how’s and why’s.

Newhouse, Beylix, 11:00am Day Three
Wolf had seen the sheriff enter and was close enough to the door before it closed to hear the Sheriff slide chamber a round and was about to intervene but something held him back. Call it instinct, call it patience, hell call it fear of doing the wrong thing, Wolf paused. Then after a few minutes, that seemed as if hours, the door opened and Wolf had to step back as one of the deputy almost barreled into him he was moving so fast. With a quick polite nod he took off down the street hollering “Luke! Luke! There some people to see you!”

With the door open and no longer sensing the same tenseness as before, Wolf said to hell with it and entered the jailhouse, looking over to Wyatt for a cue as to whether everything was ok . He at once could tell that Wyatt was tense, but then again he always seemed to Wolf to be that way, right on the verge of action and in a strange sort of way it was sort of normal.

With a seemingly innocent scan of the interior he took in the Sheriff, the second deputy, the prisoner in the cell, and Sam in the corner. Marking everyone’s placement and then leaning against the wall made himself seem relaxed letting the Cap’n and Sam do all the talking.

Day Three, Newhouse Jail, Beylix, 11:00 am
“Ah, yes. Mr. Bowman is in for murder. He claims self –defense and most of the evidence points that way but there is a slight problem of witnesses not seeing a gun in the other man’s hand and a complete lack of motivation for said man to be trying to kill Mr. Bowman. I take it you know each other? Did the Kessel run in less than 12 parses together or something like that I’d imagine,” the sheriff offered up, his sarcasm not lost on Wyatt.

“Excuse me?” John Blake interrupted, “when might we meet Mr. Pearson so we can proceed with our business arrangements?”

“Hmm?” The sheriff looked at the banker, “Oh yes. Ken, would you run out and rustle up Luke for these here gentleman?”

“Sure thing Sheriff.” Weaver replied, as he got up and headed for the door.

“That true, Bowman?” Sung kept his face impassive as he turned it once more to the prisoner. “You kill a man?”

“I did, Wyatt,” Andrew replied evenly, his eyes darting to the door where Wolf had just entered, then back to the captain’s. It was a strange position to be in for the both of them, but they were playing it cool, as though they were chatting around the kitchen table back at the ranch house. “I was playing a quiet game of poker when this fellow entered the bar. There was an unmistakable hammer draw…I don’t know if he was there to kill me, or one of the others at the table, but he was definitely there to kill someone, and had I not put him down someone else would have been fit for a pine box.”

“What about this no one else seein’ a weapon, Andrew?”

“It was in his pocket…with his hand.”

“And you ain’t never seen him before?” Wyatt pressed, positive that the law had already gone over all of this, but intent on getting his own take on the matter, and Andrew seemed willing enough to provide the information.

“Can’t say that I have.”

Captain Sung turned his attention rather abruptly from the prisoner to the sheriff. “When’s the trial, Sheriff?”

He was turning inside at the presence of a man he had last seen when his wife had been alive, and family no less. It took all of his considerable skill at distancing himself from his emotions to remain in collection of his facilities, and not let his mind wander. He knew he couldn’t just leave Bowman locked up even if the man’s story were true (which Wyatt was sure it would hold water in court). He also couldn’t be sure that the law Andrew’d be facing would be an honest one. If the fellow Andrew had killed had been someone that was favored by any in the group trying Bowman then it’d could be all over for the man. Of course, Bowman wouldn’t even consider a jailbreak—at least not as Wyatt knew him. He was too honest a man for that. Another term of jail time came to mind, but Wyatt doubted that this lawman was the type to be swayed towards releasing Bowman even if he promised to leave Beylix and not return. All the same, Sung filed that option away as something to try before any sort of jail break would be attempted.

For Bowman’s part, he had been absolutely stunned to see Wyatt walking in through the door of that jailhouse. He’d last heard Wyatt had been killed in the War…after his beloved niece had been murdered. He’d heard tell that those murders had got what was coming and that had kept him from seeking his own form of justice, but to see the living, breathing ghost of his niece’s husband stride in through the door had nearly bowled him over. He’d let Wyatt ask his questions, answering them just as honestly as he’d answered the sheriff’s—he’d never felt like lying to Sung in the past, and had liked him well enough the few times they’d had the opportunity to visit, but he wasn’t holding his breath thinking Wyatt could do anything about his current predicament. Besides, the Law would find him innocent and he’d be released in due time.

"Very important,” James replied to Willow’s “But I can’t tell you any detail or else B…, I mean I wouldn’t want to endanger you by telling you too much.”

He went on to describe the task Brigit had given him while Willow shivered theatrically and clasped his arm tighter. Inside, her heart sank as her suspicions were confirmed. She wasn’t sure why she disliked the redhead so much, but it was such a pure and intense mistrust that Willow couldn’t ignore it. Now, not only would she have to negotiate a deal under James’ nose, but it was more than likely that he’d be trying to obtain the same item.

Willow chattered with James as she considered her options. Somehow, she’d have to have a conversation with this Benny Xiau on a level that James couldn’t follow, without annoying or embarrassing him. She also couldn’t assume anything about Benny, but his name certainly implied Asian heritage…and that’s when Willow had a possible answer.

Nora Blake was a former showgirl trying to be the perfect lady, and Willow knew the upper classes frowned on Mandarin as a “common language”. It was entirely possible James had been forbidden to learn Mandarin, so he probably only knew a few curse words.

The former companion smiled to herself, and when James threw her a questioning look, she let her smile widen and told him how happy she was to be off ship on such a glorious day. I’ll have to play this carefully she thought to herself but once James heads towards his target, I’ll ask him quietly how well he speaks Mandarin, and offer to translate.

Day Three, Newhouse Jail, Beylix, 11:00 am
“…occupational hazard of being a sheriff. I find that if you go in any situation expecting trouble, then chances are you can only be mildly disappointed when you don’t find any...”

There’s a helluva ruttin’ diff’rence twixt expectin’ trouble an’ lookin’ fer it, fella… Dash responded to the sheriff’s apology with a dubious smirk and, figuring he’d sidled far enough off from the cell, allowed his hands to fall back to his side.

“Drink?”

The pilot’s eyes danced from the sheriff, over to their passengers and the other lawman, then to Wyatt and Andy, and he shook his head a fraction. “Nah,” he shrugged, “coffee’d just set my gorram nerves on end an’ whiskey… well, let’s just say th’ Cap ain’t like to be happy if’n I loosen up in here, get me?” He hooked his thumbs over his gunbelt, again, and, in an attempt to ease his jitters a bit more, forced himself to lean his shoulders against the wall at his back, and tried to act like everything was shiny and he at least kind of liked Beylix… I ruttin’ hate this gorram place!
“Pardon, Sheriff,” Sung interjected, calling Dash’s gaze up from the heavily scuffed toes of his boots and sending it volleying between the Cap and Sheriff Pump-happy, “This feller you have in your mighty fine hospitality…what’s he being duly processed over? If’n you don’t mind me askin’, that is.”

“Ah, yes. Mr. Bowman is in for murder. He claims self –defence and most of the evidence points that way but there is a slight problem of witnesses not seeing a gun in the other man’s hand and a complete lack of motivation for said man to be trying to kill Mr. Bowman. I take it you know each other? Did the Kessel run in less than 12 parsecs together or some thing like that I’d imagine.”

“Oh, he’s a funny one,” Dash grumbled from behind another smirk. (And, perhaps, the flickering of a thought that maybe he’d been too quick in choosing not to draw on the sheriff.) His gaze skittered over to Wyatt and, lifting a brow, he offered the Captain a look that might’ve said ‘it ain’t lookin’ good for ol’ Andy’.

“Excuse me?” John Blake interrupted, “when might we meet Mr. Pearson so we can proceed with our business arrangements?”

“Hmm?” the sheriff looked at the banker, “Oh yes. Ken, would you run out and rustle up Luke for these here gentleman?”

“Sure thing Sheriff.”

Sam’s eyes followed when Ken scurried out the door and, seeing Wolf on the other side, nodded to the big mechanic before letting his attentions swing back to those remaining in the Sheriff’s Office… the look in Wyatt’s eye just a second ago told him that the Captain had wheels turnin’ in his brainpan where this Andy fella was concerned and, as he listened to Wyatt and his old friend conversatin’ over the matter, he figured that his own brainpan’d likely have to facilitate some thinkin’ of it’s own before long… What was that I jus’ said ‘bout th’ diff’rence twixt expectin’ trouble an’ lookin’ fer it?…

“All the gorram same on this rock, I reckon,” he finished the thought out loud, “it is Beylix, after all.”

“When’s the trial, Sheriff?”

An’ here we go… Dash spit on the floor at his feet and his fingers wriggled anxiously as he pushed away from the wall… …off ta playin’ Big Damn Heroes or Big Damn Bad Men, again… Why can’t we never get no simple runs?