Newhouse, Beylix, Jailhouse, 11:46 am, Day Three
With the stalemate over Bowmen and his crime/trial/incarceration having been dealt with non violently Wolf found it ok to relax, his hand moving away from any hint of readiness to draw a weapon. With a quick glance to make sure all was good he turned to Captain Wyatt.

“Hey Cap’n I’ll grab the mule and meet you all out front in say 5 minutes.”

With that Fenris was out the swinging door and on his way to where he had parked the mule.....

Newhouse, Beylix, Jailhouse, 11:45 am, Day Three
“Right.” The sheriff says curtly as he goes through his desk for a set of keys. “Mr. Bowman. You were obviously acting in self defense and I see no reason for you to remain in custody.” he opens the door to the jail cell, “Give me a moment to find your personal effects and you can be on your way – the sooner the better.”
Andrew Bowman smiled slightly and nodded to the Sheriff as he opened his cell and let him out, “Thank you Sheriff!” He didn’t say any more as he knew the man was steaming about being forced into this situation and getting nothing for it. As the Sheriff retrieved his things he turned towards Wyatt and smiled.

“Well Wyatt,” he said holding out his hand to the man, “This is a more proper greeting for us I think. How have you been lately?” When they shook hands, Wyatt would find that Andrew’s hands were a might rougher than he remembered; calluses had formed from harder work than when he had meet him last.

After a few pleasantries, Andrew turned to take his things from the Sheriff. His guns he strapped back on his waist, checking to make sure they were loaded as he did so. Hoisting his travel bag up on his shoulder he tipped his hat to the man.

“Much obliged, Sheriff.”

When Deputy Weaver came in offering them a Ham Hock which was apparently a mistake in communication, Andrew coughed slightly into his hand to hide the smile and stifle the chuckle that was threatening to burst forth.

With that the sheriff strides out of his office. He calls out, “Good day gentlemen. Please don’t take this wrong but I hope to never see any of you again – unless it is in a bodybag.” As the door slams behind him.
As the Sheriff stormed out, Andrew tipped his hat in goodbye; as the door closed he said softly, “the feeling is mutual Sheriff.”

His gear stored he turned to Wyatt with a faint smile.

“Well looks like you’re my ride off of this rock, where are we going?” He asked.

Newhouse, Beylix, Jailhouse, 11:45 am, Day Three
Wyatt didn’t smile when the tables turned so quickly on the Sheriff. He wasn’t one to tempt fate, and smirking about the bad luck of another was askin’ it on himself. So, as the sheriff of Newhouse swallowed his pride and made the best of the situation, Wyatt Sung didn’t even bother looking his way, but instead planted one hip against the desk and set about keeping his attention elsewhere out of one part courtesy, three parts concern over attracting the bad luck his way.

“Hey Cap’n. I’ll grab the mule and meet you all out front in, say five minutes?” Fenris called out as he headed out the door receiving a casual nod from Sung in response.

Wyatt considered the new addition to the crew for a moment in his wake. He appeared to be fitting right in, and that was important to the captain. Roc wasn’t just a boat they floated through the Black on. It was a home, and when a person invited another into their home it was always pleasant when the comfort level didn’t change none.

“Well, Wyatt,” Andrew drew his attention towards the cell as Summer’s uncle emerged and approached him, hand outstretched. “This is a more proper greeting for us I think. How have you been lately?”

Sung took his proffered hand and relaxed his face into a rare smile. “I’ve been livin’ free, Andrew. Makin’ do.”

He wanted to catch up on Andrew’s life. The man had been a gambler and city-type when Sung had known him previous, but the captain had a sneaking suspicion that Bowman’s path had veered a bit judging from the rough hands. Now, however, wasn’t the time.

Deputy Waver’s arrival with the ham was more than a little like the straw that broke the camel’s back where the sheriff was concerned. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Wyatt accepted the meat and set it next to him on the desk while Bowman retrieved his gear.

“Good day, gentlemen,” the sheriff declared as he made his way angrily from the building. “Please don’t take this wrong, but I hope to never see any of you again – Unless it is in a body bag.”

Sung stared at the door a moment after it slammed shut, but quickly turned his attention to the business at hand just as Weaver asked them if they wanted coffee. The captain got the impression that the sheriff wasn’t kidding about the order to kill. He wasn’t exactly concerned with the deputy…there was no doubt in his mind that the man’d be an easy take down should the need arise, but Wyatt wasn’t keen on becoming known for killing lawmen.

“I ‘ppreciate the offer, Deputy,” Sung drawled as he rose from his perch against the desk and slipped his hat from his head to run a hand through his hair. “However, I think the good sheriff’d skin you alive were he to see you fraternizin’ with us any further.”

“Well,” Andrew offered as an alternative. “Looks like you’re my ride off this rock. Where we going?”

“Regina,” Wyatt placed his hat back atop his head and adjusted it so that the brim was an even set. “We got to get this here bunch an’ their new sheriff, back t’ Frisco.”

“All right. You gentlemen through with your business here?” Captain Sung addressed the businessmen. Once he receives the affirmation he says, “Let’s skin out.”

Picking up the ham, Sung made his way to the door, tipping his hat towards Deputy Weaver by way of farewell. Stepping outside, he cast about for the location of the mule and Wolf. Finding them, he made his way to his customary seat in the front passenger position allowing the others to file out and onto the vehicle as they would.

“You got anything you need to pick up, Andrew?” He asked as Bowman added his weight to the mule’s load. (OOC: assuming no…) “Shiny. Wolf, take us home.”

He hoped Willow was through with her business as he wanted nothing more than to leave this mudball behind. He was pleased with the fact that they had won out with Bowman in tow, the townsfolk having landed their sheriff, and it looking likely that they’d be able to complete this particular gig without so much as the time delay it took to iron out that mess. No weapons fire was a good thing…less expensive to be sure. He hoped the rest of the crew would take Andrew in without question—truth be told, he wasn’t too concerned about it. They were all good people, and he didn’t know what Bowman’s plans were as far as sticking around so maybe he was burning atmo too early on that front. His bigger concern was the man they were taking on board as Frisco’s new sheriff.

Newhouse’s law seemed pretty eager to rid themselves of this fellow, and that didn’t sit none to right with Wyatt. In his experience when one person was trying to ditch another it was usually because of some major flaw. What kind of person was he taking aboard Rocinante? What kind of trouble was he bringing to Frisco? He’d have to pull the crew aside when they were shipboard again and share his suspicions. It’d be better having the whole crew lookin’ out after the man than just him. First chance he got…

Newhouse, Beylix, Jailhouse, 11:46 am, Day Three
Sung took his proffered hand and relaxed his face into a rare smile. “I’ve been livin’ free, Andrew. Makin’ do.”
“Well,” Andrew said, “Looks like you’re my ride off this rock, Where we going?”

“Regina,” Wyatt placed his hat back atop his head and adjusted it so that the brim was an even set. “We got to get this here bunch an’ their new sheriff, back t’ Frisco.”

“All right. You gentlemen through with your business here?” Captain Sung addressed the businessmen. Once he receives the affirmation he says, “Let’s skin out.”

Picking up the ham, Sung made his way to the door, tipping his hat towards Deputy Weaver by way of farewell. Stepping outside, he cast about for the location of the mule and Wolf. Finding them, he made his way to his customary seat in the front passenger position allowing the others to file out and onto the vehicle as they would.

“You got anything you need to pick up, Andrew?” He asked as Bowman added his weight to the mule’s load.
Andrew followed Wyatt outside the Jail, tipping his hat as well to Weaver as he left. Outside, he eyed the Mule and with a shrug climbed aboard after Wyatt.

“Got everything I need here,” Andrew said hefting his bag before finding a spot to stow it for the ride, “Barely breezed into town and found, what I thought was, a friendly poker game before getting hauled away to jail.”

“Shiny. Wolf, take us home.”
Andrew found a spot to sit, or hang on before the mule started to move. He thought quietly to himself how fortunate it was that he had run into the last person he would have expected to find on this rock. He had been looking for work and who knew he may have found it; he would have to wait and see. For now, he was atmo bound and glad of it.

Once they were in the black he would have to sit down and talk to Wyatt at length and see what the future held. If they could both come to terms with the memories that seeing each other would stir up, then they just might make this work.

Beylix: Gorram garbage dump of the Verse… Scrapyard for ships and souls alike... Garbage in… Garbage Out… don’t nothin’ ever change hereabouts.

Sam Dash wasn’t the first to have referred to the planet in those terms, of course, and likely wouldn’t be the last because, for the most part, the whole ruttin’ spiel was hand-to-God truth. Sam knew that even before he was Sam and even got the not so distinct pleasure of experiencing it firsthand not too long after he’d finally gotten cozy with bein’ who he wasn’t… matter-of-fact, after having lived it for the time he did, Sam was pretty ruttin’ sure they could’ve set that depiction of the place to stone, cemented it in as a cornerstone down at the docks, an’ would never have to worry about changin’ it for as long as the planet was doin’ its do-si-do around the sun. Hell, he’d had all of it reaffirmed in this latest visit, now, hadn’t he?

Set gear ta dock on bonafide legitimate bidness an’ get what fer th’ trouble o’ bein’ respectable? A gorram pooter-puckered sheriff who goes ta landlockin’ yer boat fer nothin’ more’n hump an’ happys! Fine, shinin’ example o’ them haves workin’ them have-nots so as they c’n have some more
Leastways that’s how Sam figured it up until he saw it spin around on them as typical benefited from the dung-hill nature of the place… Whatever piece o’ bad-luck’d been doggin’ the Rocinante’s crew had just seen fit to flip itself a bit to the better side of shiny all of a sudden and, if Dash hadn’t plotted the course here himself, he might’ve not believed they were on Beylix, at all. He had plotted that course, though, and was saddled up nice and cozy behind the yoke when they burnt atmo and touched down dirt-side… considering that and the fact that he’d just seen Sheriff Arness’ attempt at a shakedown and stay-put shot right in the gorram pi gu by what could only be explained as ‘good luck,’ it was almost more than Sam could bear when Deputy Weaver showed back up and added insult to the sheriff’s injured ego by handing Wyatt a ham hock that should’ve been a landlock…

“Oh, damn,” the scruffy pilot sniggered over the grumbling sounds his stomach made when he caught a whiff of what he hoped would be tonight’s supper. “How wrin bu lai, whai wrin bu jwo, yeah, lawman?” he muttered from behind the hand that had moved to mask his bemused smirk, “Glad that mi tian gohn applies to folk other’n us fer a change.”

“Hey, Cap’n,” Wolf said, then, “I’ll grab the mule and meet you all out front in say 5 minutes.”

On the verge of flat falling down laughing at the predicament that the Sheriff had found himself in (and with his paranoia-throttle eased back a touch as a result), Sam figured it’d be best for all concerned if he, too, followed Wolf out – Arness already had sights on ‘em fer some reason and Dash’s people skills weren’t like to help that none - didn’t look as if there was to be any gunplay, anyway. “I’m in Wolf’s wake, Cap,” Sam grinned, already ambling for the door, “I’ll make sure we got room fer our guests ta squat comfortable.”

((Assuming no objections…))

Once outside, squinting against the sunlight and pollution in the air as his gaze sought out the mule, Sam erupted into laughter that was born of equal parts amusement and anxiety. “How bout that gorram ham hock, Wolf” he chortled at the big mechanic who was already climbing aboard the hovercraft, “ya could purt near hear th’ Sheriff’s pi gu slam shut, couldn’t ya?”

“…I hope to never see any of you again – unless it is in a bodybag.”

Hauling himself up onto the mule, Dash smirked as the sound of Arness’ voice and the banging closed of the door drew his whiskey-eyed gaze back to the front of the Sherrif’s Office. “Speakin’ o’ slammin’ shut,” he smirked, sliding past the front passenger’s seat, climbing up onto the rear deck, and eyeing the sheriff as he stormed off… Dash made a quick check of the stowage compartments, making sure that there was room to secure any gear that either Frisco’s new lawman, Pearson, or the Cap’s apparent-long-lost-friend may be bringing along and that there wasn’t anything currently stored in those compartments that the former might find ‘unseemly’ if he happened to gander a mite too close.

“Gonna be a mite snug onna ride home, Wolfy,” Dash said, securing the hatches after his inspection of the compartments, and figuring the difference between seat on the mule and the number of butts there were to fill ‘em, “an’ I don’ figger it’s bound ta get no less cozy once we burn atmo, neither…”

Willow’s eyes widened slightly as Benny told them about the piece, but fortunately, both men were too distracted to really notice. If the piece belonged to Benny’s grandfather, then Benny and Lao Tsu were either half brothers or cousins. Willow began to wonder if she’d been sent for the chess piece or Benny himself, but in reviewing her conversation with the old Shepherd, she had to conclude that the piece itself was the goal. Still, it was something to think about.

Well, “Benny interrupts her thoughts, “Are you two bidding against each other? Because if you are, I think the Lady here presents a more attractive figure.” He laughs loudly and wipes his mouth on his sleeve.

“No!” Jimmy says with an edge and shoots a look at Willow that suggests he’d like her to be quiet, “It is just me making an offer.”

“Indeed,” Willow responded archly, making a little pout at James’ direction,” I couldn’t possibly want to buy something without seeing it. But if James is willing to throw money around…” she shrugged, and let her gaze fall away, then muttered almost as if sulking.

“Overdressed momma’s boy knows little beyond his behind.” OOC: Spoken in Chinese, couldn’t find what I was looking for online.

Newhouse, Beylix, Emmett’s Bar, 11:45am – 12:15, Day Three
“Indeed,” Willow responded archly, making a little pout at James’ direction,” I couldn’t possibly want to buy something without seeing it. But if James is willing to throw money around…” she shrugged, and let her gaze fall away, then muttered almost as if sulking.

“Overdressed momma’s boy knows little beyond his behind.” OOC: Spoken in Chinese

Benny smiles knowingly at Willow and produces the piece from his coat pocket. Jimmy takes it and gives it a quick glance and dismissal then passes it to Willow.

“How much do you want?’ he asks.

“How much do you got?” Benny counters and stuffs another piece of bao into his mouth.

Willow turns the piece in her hands. It is made to look like ivory, scrimshaw style, but it is carved plastic. Her eye for detail and appraisal notes that the piece has been broken once and re-glued together, but very well done. If she hadn’t been trained to note small flaws, Willow might not have noticed it either. She flips the piece in her hands and then sees something she didn’t expect – a security key receptor. The piece was a security access key! A key to something big no doubt, but what?

“I’ll give you 100 credits cash” Jimmy said with a sign that suggested he was doing charity work.

Benny snorted rudely, “What do I look like? Fong luh? How about two thousand and in platinum.”

“That sounds pretty …Fong luhish to me.” Jimmy replies, “How about 250 credits in alliance currency – it spends better.”

“Yeah and it traces through every spaceport scanner. No way, 1750 and you can convert your cash.”

“James, my sweet Buhn Dahn , do you even have that much money?” Willow asked, eyes wide with innocence. “That’s a lot to carry, and as Benny says, it’s traceable when you convert it.”

“Willow dear, don’t believe that fiction.” Jimmy says reaching to hold her hand, “The alliance doesn’t track money through scanners.That is just a conspiracy theory created by browncoats.” He pats her hand consolingly and then turns to Benny, “750 cash and I’m sure you can find a way to wash the money. That’s a final offer.”

“Merciful Buddha, if I’d known you had that kind of money…” Willow sighed dramatically,” but if you want to spend it on a piece of plastic instead, I can’t stop you. Maybe the same amount in platinum would be more to your liking. Refuse to sell and I’ll make it worth your while Willow sighed in Chinese as if to herself, but watched Benny closely through her lashes.

Benny is startled by Willow’s offer and his face shows it for too long for James not to notice. Looking from James to Willow, Benny tries to cover himself by stuffing another dumpling in his mouth.

“You jien hwo!” He says accusingly at Willow as anger reaches his face, “You are bidding against me aren’t you? Brigit told me you were trouble but I didn’t believe her.” He suddenly realizes that he has revealed something he didn’t want to and grimaces. “Mr. Xiau, you do not want to deal with this woman. She is a spy for the alliance and trying to trick you. What has she offered?”

“Alliance spy?” laughed Willow smoothly,” You’re the one with the oh-so-traceable Alliance credits, dear boy. And I doubt JW will appreciate your interest in his woman,“ Mock horror crossed her lovely face as if something just occurred to her. “You haven’t, you know, done more than be interesting with that woman, have you? Might be better if you are off-planet when JW finds out.”

“Yeah,“ Benny smiles in apology to Willow and turns to James, “If she’s a spy, why did you bring her with you? A fiendishly clever plot to keep your enemy close?”

James pushes himself away from Willow, “Fine.” He says angrily, “You want two thousand. Then this is what you get,” he says as quickly reaches into his jacket and pulls out a shiny but deadly PPK special (James Bond style gun). “Now ….”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!” screams Darla at the sight of the gun and dives behind the counter. The three men quickly bolt for the door as fast as their feet can take them.

“Now give me the piece now!” James orders Benny.

“James,” Willow says urgently in a low voice, eyes on the gun,” You really, really don’t want to do this. You can buy the piece for whatever you want, I don’t care. Just put the gun down. You don’t want to hurt me, do you?”

Willow pushed all the empathy and calm into her voice that she could manage, while reaching out beseechingly towards James. She remained seated however, not wanting to make any sudden moves.

“Here!” Benny offers the chess piece, his hand extended to Jimmy, “Take it!”

Jimmy looks from the chess piece to Willow. “Why did you have to mess things up?”

BLAMM!

A shotgun blast blows a hole the size of a man;s fist in the wall to the left of Jimmy’s face.

“What the …”

Darla is up from behind the bar with a double barrel shot gun she can barely lift. In fact she uses the counter to partially brace the gun, “Oh no! No more! Not in my bar baby! You come around with the guns and the killing and Darla cleans it up. Well no more Mister!”

Jimmy drops the gun in pure terror as he dives for the floor. Benny lets go of the chess piece as well, and both end up in the dumplings.

With Jimmy cowering under the table, Willow furtively attempts to palm the chess piece. Benny makes the same move at the same time and the two of them nudge hands, sending the chesspiece and gun onto the floor in front of the table in no man’s land between the you and Darla.

Willow remains where she is, hands held up for Darla to see, plain as day, “Darla, honey, don’t be aiming that cannon at me!”

The doors to the to the bar open and a middle age man with a gold star runs into the room with a gun in each hand.”Right” He says with a slight accent, “Reach for the sky!”




Newhouse, Beylix, Outside Jailhouse, 12:15 am, Day Three
Wolf gets the hovermule going as you wait for Luke to pack up his stuff and join you. Deputy Ken is very friendly and willing to make small talk all the while armed with pistols and a shotgun.

It isn’t long (about 20 minutes) before the lawman returns with a single duffelbag and his rifle packed up in a case. He wears a grey duster over shirt now, with the silver badge in his hand. He flips it to Ken as he approaches. “Here you go Ken. Take care of the sheriff for me.”

“Sure thing Luke. Good luck out there.”

“Luck’s got nothing to do with it Ken” he says as he puts his bags in the back of the mule.

Suddenly there is a noise, coming from close by of a woman scrweaming in terror.

“Aw hell.” Ken says, “That’s Darla again.”

“You gonna check it out?” Luke asks.

“Nah. Sheriff said to escort you all out. I’d better …”

BLAMMM!

“Gorram it! That was a shotgun.” Ken starts to takes off in a sprint in the same direction the sheriff had headed and then stops and looks back, ‘Ummm, Luke, you know what to do. Nice meeting you all!” and then he disappears down the street and into a back alley.

“Well then Captain. Shall we?” Like asks.

(Assuming some answer and the proceeding to get everyone into the mule.)

The sunlight shines down on the Green, and if it wasn’t the Smelters in the background, it would make a lovely picture. The townfolk are getting abroad the mule (any time now gentlemen) when suddenly the peace is disrupted by a man running out of the Mining Guild Office, clutching a strong box in his arms, his head turned behind him as he runs.

Two men pursuing him get jammed up in the Guild Office doorway. One starts shouting “Stop! Thief! Someone stop him!”

Luke Pearson jumps out of mule and takes off after the man across the Green, drawing his pistol as he does.

With as much patience and calm as he could muster given recent events, Dash spent the time waiting for Pearson to return with his gear by scanning the surrounding area with a distrusting eye and listening in on the jaw-jacking that went on between Deputy Ken and the rest of the folk gathered around the hovermule. He didn’t really participate in the conversation too much, himself, other than the occasional wisecrack or off-color remark when his attentions weren’t overly occupied with their almost perpetual sweep of the Green and the bits of Newhouse that surrounded it. Sam had no lack of anxiousness to get off this rock and back into the Sky – it didn’t even matter that, with the sun shining on the Green the way it was, that Beylix did have it’s pretty moments – the only thing that had ever gone right for him on this scrap yard planet had been meeting Wyatt Sung and landing a spot behind Rocinante’s yoke. Aside from that, it seemed, Beylix seemed to hold a powerful dislike for Sam and he wasn’t exactly keen on sticking around and provoking her any longer than necessary…

‘Bout time, the pilot thought when, after twenty minutes or so, Luke Pearson came jandering back with his gear.

“Here you go, Ken,” Luke said, flipping his badge to the young Deputy, “Take care of the sheriff for me.”

“Sure thing, Luke,” the lawman with the cheerful disposition answered, pocketing the badge, “Good luck out there.”

“Luck’s got nothing to do with it, Ken” Frisco’s new Sheriff quipped, loading his bags onto the mule as Sam slid out of the way around the side of the craft.

“Pssh,” the pilot snorted through a crooked grin, “don’ let the Cap here ya say that, Pearson. I reckon he’d debate ya on …”

Suddenly, a woman’s terrified scream ripped the air causing Sam to flinch a bit and hesitate in his steps as his gaze skittered in the direction of the noise.

“Aw hell.” Ken says, “That’s Darla again.”

“You gonna check it out?” Luke asks.

“Nah. Sheriff said to escort you all out. I’d better …”

BLAMMM!

“Wu de mah,” Sam smirked as the sound of the shotgun blast urged his hand instinctively to the iron at his hip, “Another beautiful ruttin’ day in S#!*town, huh?”

“Gorram it! That was a shotgun.” Ken starts to takes off in a sprint in the same direction the sheriff had headed and then stops and looks back, ‘Ummm, Luke, you know what to do. Nice meeting you all!” and then he disappears down the street and into a back alley.

“Well then Captain. Shall we?” Luke asks.

“Yeah,” Sam nodded, stepping aside a bit to allow their passengers to climb aboard the mule, “I’m wit’ th’ lawman, Cap. Th’ quicker we’re gone th’ better, get me?

C’mon, gents,” he urged, ushering the Frisco group onto the mule, “Let’s get some pi guhs in some seats; time is mon…”

“Stop! Thief! Someone stop him!”

Dash’s head swiveled in the direction of the latest disruption and framed what might have been an almost comical chase scene in his vision – one guy running like hell away from the Mining Guild offices with a strong box clutched in his hands and two other fellas as thought to give chase to the first one all jammed up in the doorway of the Guild as a result of their hurryin’… Almost comical… except that it took Dash about as long to realize that the guy running away with the strongbox was Chad Sloat as it did for Pearson to jump off the mule with his pistol ready and commence to chasing the guy down.

“Ai ya,” Sam growled, “Wo bu shin wo dah yan jing! Cap! It's lookin' as if we got us a bit of a clusterfu** about ta commence… Ain’t that Sloat?”

When the shotgun went off, it was all Willow could do to not shriek. In fact, it was only the fear that nearly immobilized her that stopped the sound in her throat. A quick glance told her James was still alive; Darla was as good a shot as she was a seductress, apparently.

“Darla, honey, don’t be aiming that cannon at me!” Willow finally managed through a tight throat and chattering teeth. She was wondering how to talk both Darla and James into calming down when an older man charged into the bar, guns ready and gold star shining a beacon of hope to Willow’s frightened eyes.

Under such circumstances, there were only three things a well bred lady could do. Fainting or dissolving into hysterics, while appealing, wouldn’t let her try to control the situation, and could backfire under these ticklish circumstances. Really, option 3 was the only one left. Willow burst into tears. Glorious, diamond sparkling tears began to trickle down her face as her shoulders and bosom hitched with little sobs.

“Oh my! Thank all the stars! Sheriff? You can’t imagine how terrified I’ve been! “ Willow still remained where she was, hands held up in the classic pose of surrender, but she deftly tugged a lace handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed delicately at her eyes.

Newhouse, Beylix, Outside Jailhouse, 12:15 am, Day Three
Wolf calmly waited, the mule hovering at half power, as the almost over sized passenger load climbed in under Sam’s direction. Then with everyone as comfortable as possible he slowly moved the mule towards the Rocinante.

It was here as he was starting to gain speed that the return trip to the ship turned into a gho Shi wi pe as Parson jumped off and sprinted towards someone yelling thief. Slamming the mules brakes he quickly brought the over loaded skimmer to an abrupt halt.

“Ai ya,” Sam growled behind him “Wo bu shin wo dah yan jing! Cap! It's lookin' as if we got us a bit of a clusterfu** about ta commence… Ain’t that Sloat?”

Sure enough Wolf could now see that a man carrying a lockbox and being chased by two men and now Parsons was indeed a Rocinante passenger.

“Liou koe shway duh biao-tze huh hoe-tze duh bun ur-tze” Fenris cursed out loud, this could not be a good thing. Turning to look to Cap Wyatt sitting next to him in the front passenger seat he waited the Captain’s orders......

Wyatt couldn't have been less thrilled about the events that were unfolding as the group of them gathered in the mule to head back to the ship. As the declarations were made and Sam realized who it was running, Sung's cool gaze followed the fleeing man while his mind raced to burn atmo. They weren't exactly the favorites of the Law in this town, and the sheriff had already tried to landlock Roc. If they interfered they'd most certainly be branded as accomplices. If they didn't...well, Wyatt wasn't fooled into thinking that the sheriff would think any differently once he found out which ship that fool of a man had arrived on. Whatever the reason for the apparent crime, it put the crew--his family--in a very bad spot.

It was time to gamble.

"Wolf," Wyatt drawled quietly. "Head that fool off at the pass. He ain't draggin' us to the gallows with him, an' he's got 'imself a might bit o' explaining to do t' me before the Law get's 'im."

That said, Wyatt shifted his brown coat to allow better access to his Colt. "Sam, we'll make 'im think we're helpin' him, so no guns unless necessary. Andrew...If'n you wanna step off, I understand."

Wyatt was laying his cards on the table. If he helped catch the man, the sheriff couldn't table the crew of Rocinante in with the crime and Wyatt could sort out the mess later if it needed sorting out.

Newhouse, Beylix, Outside Jailhouse, 12:15 am, Day Three

Andrew watched as the events unfolded about him.. he raised an eyebrow when the shots rang out.. he remembered Darla from Emmitt's bar where he had played cards and unfortunately had to kill a man in self defense.. he still wondered why the man had tried to kill him?

Was he a wanted man here as well as on other worlds.. he had enemies.. hell who didn’t.. but most were poor and couldn’t afford to hire someone or place a bounty on his head.. at least not one that would make a person chase him down across the verse.

Though.. when he thought about it.. he could think of a few who could afford to hire bounty hunters or put up a sizable reward.. enough to make someone come into a saloon and try and shoot him in the back.. he would have to be more careful he thought.

For now he watched as a man carrying a strong box ran out of a building and was chased by two other men.. he thought this strange but strange seemed to be the way about this planet.

"Wolf," Wyatt drawled quietly. "Head that fool off at the pass. He ain't draggin' us to the gallows with him, an' he's got 'imself a might bit o' explaining to do t' me before the Law get's 'im."

That said, Wyatt shifted his brown coat to allow better access to his Colt. "Sam, we'll make 'im think we're helpin' him, so no guns unless necessary. Andrew...If'n you wanna step off, I understand."
Andrew smiled slightly and shook his head as he hung on to the mule so he wouldn’t get tossed.

“Nah.. I guess I might as well stick around.. ya might need me.” He checked the status of his holstered guns.. he didn’t draw any of them and wouldn’t unless necessary.. but it never hurt to know they were ready.

(Edit: had the wrong time/location bar.. hmm???)

Newhouse, Beylix, Outside Jailhouse, 12:20 am, Day Three
"Wolf," Wyatt drawled quietly. "Head that fool off at the pass. He ain't draggin' us to the gallows with him, an' he's got 'imself a might bit o' explaining to do t' me before the Law get's 'im."

Wolf throws the mule into high thrust, twisting the wheel as he holds the inertial dampers on the front for a brief pause. The dials on his dash all play over to the red but Wolf holds it long enough to align himself and then releases the hold. The mule leaps like a shot, the townfolks all fall over themselves in the back cursing and swearing.

“Stop in the name of the law!” shouts Luke Pearson as he clears his pistol from the holster. Chad keeps on running.

BLAM, BLAM

Luke opens up on Chad, firing two shots into the man’s back. Both bullets hit their target with deadly accuracy and Chad goes down like a sack of potatoes. Luke then twirls the gun in his hand, all fancy like and re-holsters it. All around him, people stare in disbelief of what they just saw, but then they start to clap and smile cheerfully.

“Thank you Luke!”

“Nice shooting Mr. Pearson!”

“Good aim there Deputy Pearson.”

The praise and cheering goes on as the two men who had been chasing Chad caught up. But the smiles don’t hide the fear in these people’s eyes. The cheering can’t hide the terror you see in them.

Newhouse, Beylix, Emmett’s Bar, 12:20, Day Three
“Oh my! Thank all the stars! Sheriff? You can’t imagine how terrified I’ve been!” Willow still remained where she was, hands held up in the classic pose of surrender, but she deftly tugged a lace handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed delicately at her eyes.

The sheriff looks over the three of you with a distinct look of contempt as he walks over to the pistol on the floor. He bends at the knees and picks it up, looking it over and checking the slide and clip. “A Newtech PPK replica with a LS rail modification! I say, someone has a lot of money to waste.” He looks over at the lady with the shotgun, “Darla, put down the peashooter and tell me what happened here? You seem to be attracting the wrong type. Might as well move my office here.”

Darla puts down the shotgun. “A girl has to protect herself Sheriff.”

“Perhaps something a bit more ladylike Darla? Something you can aim?”
“They were all being nice and good over there and then the young fellow drew the gun and started demanding a piece. Got really angry and was spouting off about killing them for it.”

“That’s not true!” Jimmy cries out, “Really Sir I protest….”

There sheriff crosses the space of the bar in a flash and cuffs Jimmy across the face with his pistol. Caught off guard, he falls back but the sheriff grabs him by the front of the shirt and drives James’ face into the table with a hard thud, “I don’t care!” sheriff spits between blenched teeth, “I am having a very bad day and you just volunteered to pay for it.” He rapidly frisks Jimmy as he holds him down on the table and pulls out the young man’s wallet. And starts going through it. “My my! Your friend is well heeled.” He pulls out a few 50 credit notes, “Here Darla! For your trouble.”

Darla comes over and takes the money, “Why thank you sheriff! You are so generous!”

“Which reminds me, you are behind on your payments.” The sheriff says and snatches the cash back from Darla while folding all the cash and putting it in his pocket.

“But Sheriff!” Darla whines.

“Oh relax Darla. Now you are paid up and once I deal with Mister Fancypants, I’ll come back and you and I will work on the principal.” The sheriff discards the wallet over his shoulder. He then levels the gun directly at Willow, “So what’s your story, little lady, because if this is your boyfriend, it’s gonna take a lot of putting out to save him”

Before Willow can answer, a man charges into the room from the back entrance, a silver star on his chest and shotgun in his hand. “What’s going down Sheriff?”

“Nothing while you are here!” The sheriff screams, “I thought I told you to get that crew to their ship and out of here?”

“Well, yeah, but I heard shots …”

“Never mind! Just take this one to jail and process him for me. Take his suit and shoes and put him in one of those orange prisoner suits. And don’t get blood on the suit either! Takes a lot to get blood out of a suit.”

BLAM! BLAM!

“Oh Gorram it!” The Sheriff stamps his feet and yells, “You left Pearson alone didn’t you!”

“Well …”

The sheriff forgets about Willow and Benny, “Ken! Take the prisoner! I’ll take care of this!” he yells as he runs out of the bar. Ken takes Jimmy and cuffs him before dragging him away, all the while Jimmy whining about his rights and the need to call his dad who will straighten this all out for him.

Benny looks over at Willow, ‘So. 750 in platinum sounds good to me.”

Newhouse, Beylix, Outside Jailhouse, 12:20 am, Day Three
Now, Sam couldn’t’ve told a body a ruttin’ thing about Chad Sloat before the fella come aboard Rocinante as a passenger and, even after having spent the better part of a week in the Black with the man, he couldn’t’ve told much more aside from the fact that Sloat was a quiet sort of fella – tended to stay out from under foot an’ kept to the passenger berths except when grub was on the table – and was a might twitchy when it come to the strongbox as he kept cozied away in his bunk… an’ there wasn’t too awful much wrong with twitchy in Sam’s way of thinkin’ as twitchy’d kept him suckin’ air for more than a couple years. Of course, ya ain’t gotta really know a fella to get an impression of what he’s gonna be like all the time and, twitchy aside, Sam never got the impression that Sloat were much of a criminal at all, let alone the type that’d take berth on a transport just ta come half across the Verse so as to do some thievin’ at the mining guild offices on Beylix. So, when Wyatt drawled; “Sam,”we’ll make ‘im think we’re helpin’ him, so no guns unless necessary,” the scruffy pilot nodded his agreement and set off to run Sloat down and tackle the guy before he got himself shot…

“Stop! In the name of the law!”

BLAM! BLAM!

Sam’d barely made a full run when he heard Pearson and Pearson’s pistol. He wasn’t sure which he’d heard first, nor was he sure that he hadn’t heard them both at the same time. What he was sure of, though, as his pumping legs, suddenly gone numb, stopped churning and his jaw dropped open is that Chad Sloat and his strongbox weren’t liable to get back up under their own will, now, and (in Sam’s mind, at least) that Pearson hadn’t given Sloat much of a chance to stop before he stopped him. He didn’t need to see the fear in the eyes of the local witnesses to know that Pearson was the type to shoot first and ask questions later (if them as he was shooting at lived to answer questions, anyway)…

“Thank you, Luke!”

There was a trembling in the voice that translated in Sam’s ears as “Thanks for not shooting me, Luke!”

“Nice shooting Mr. Pearson!”

Sam blinked in disbelief as his numb legs plodded to a stop less than a hop and a skip from Pearson… Whiskey-colored eyes swept towards the owner of that voice and, behind the compliment, registered anxiousness and forced good humor behind the compliment. Dash’s palm itched for the butt of the Avenger, just then, but his back felt Wyatt’s eyes boring a hole in it, so the pilot just blinked again… at the back of Pearson’s head… at the still form of Sloat not too far off… and, finally, back to Wyatt with a look that said; “I don’t conjure I’m believin’ what I just seen, Cap!”

Dash saw Wyatt’s lips tighten and knew that the Captain was about to say something that’d likely settle his jumping nerves but…

“You ruttin’ trigger-happy sumbitch,” Sam’s gaze had already swept back past Sloat’s sprawled form and found the back of Pearson’s head again, “what’d ya have ta go an’ shoot that poor bastard fer?!”

((OOC: Sam's not lookin' to slap leather or nothin' but he does recall Sloat hovering like a mother hen over that strogbox of his for the whole cruise and ain't entirely convinced that an innocent man didn't just get gunned down for nothin'! ))

“So. 750 in platinum sounds good to me.”
Willow blinked a few times as Benny’s words drifted past her. She’d just had a gun pointed at her by a man who’d been trying to bed her, had a shotgun go off close enough that she felt spent gunpowder settle on skin and hair, then have another gun pointed at her by a supposed officer of the law. She’d started to rise in reaction to the sight of James’ blood, but the gun barrel aimed at her throat stopped her cold. The sheriff’s casual brutality also shocked Willow into near catatonia; she who had been sheltered for most of her life.

“What fresh kind of hell is this place?” she whispered before drawing a shuddering breath. She sees Benny looking at her out of the corner of her eye and recalls the last thing he’d said to her. “For the piece? Ah…yes, yes, indeed – if you don’t mind walking me back to my ship for payment.” Her words started out faintly but gained strength as Willow regained some of her composure. The hand that rose to fix her hair was steady, but her lips trembled and she was slo to rise, unsure of her legs.

As Benny and Willow left the bar (OOC: assuming Benny agrees to do so) Willow suggested,” Let’s not take any route that goes past the jail, shall we? I don’t think we want to encounter the sheriff again until we have our stories straight. As far as I am concerned, I just wanted a drink and James offered to escort me. I have no idea what the silly boy thought he might be trying to buy from you, but I believe you were just as confused as I was…hmm? Is there anything else someone might try to buy from you? And what is it,” Willow continued with some asperity,” with that lawman? Does he have you all paying protection money, or just the saloon owners? Who happen to be women?”