Day 1, Whitefall - Necessity, Outside of "The Wreckage", 9:30 PM PT
Nelson O'Reilly staggering angrily toward them, locking on Asher and his fists are clenched with rage.

"You must be the engineer that Colleen here tells me she loves,Nelson, right?" Nelson makes a wild swing at Asher that he easily ducks, but Nelson stumbles and falls into the dirt. "Hey we was just going to get some noodle, want to join us?"

Nelson gets up and charges towards Asher again. "Nelson don't!" Collen yells angrily at him.

"At lot of noodles and little talk'n could make for a shiny evening." Asher as he sidesteps the drunken man and he falls on the ground again.

"Waitaminutedidhesayyouloveme?" Nelson says loudly with face in the dirt.

"Yeah he did, Nelson," Comes a voice from behind both Asher and Colleen. They turn to see an older gentleman, probably in his 50's or 60's with short hair and a serious look on his face. "Now come on. Enough with this and let's go home."



"Umm Captain I can explain." Collen says hesitantly.

"I am sure you can." The man replies. "But later, let's take care of our own. Max? Xian?"

A big man in a plain white t-shirt and camo pants comes forth and helps Nelson up. He nods a silent thanks to Asher. Behind him comes a rather short exotic looking lady. She is oriental but her eyes glow blue - literally (mech eyes) and her long hair is pure white as are her eyebrows. She also helps with Nelson but she examines him briefly that same way Willow would have. "He's had a Go Sa load, Hew but he'll be okay. Need to throw up and sleep it off."

"iain'tgonnathrow.."Nelson objects before throwing up on the ground between Max and Xian.

"Right, come on Colleen." The Captain says in a tone that allows no argument. He offers his hand to Asher. "Thanks for not decking my mechanic. Can't say I would have blamed you if you had. And also for being a gentleman with Colleen there."

(assuming a response)

"You not on a hauler are you?"

(assuming answer)

"Right. Well, if you ever need anything I can help with, I'm Hewlett Stewart, Captain of the Morgan Creek."

(Intro - If you mention Rocinante you'll get a slight cock of the head and a smile from the Captain)

"Ahh. Transport. Never could enjoy that life. Not for everyone I guess."

Suddenly, Asher's comm squawks awkwardly, "The mule's headin' back t' Roc. Any o' you lot need a ride?" Wyatt's voice calls out.

Colleen waves to Asher, "Thanks Ash. Hope to see you around the Verse someday."

Day 1, Whitefall - Necessity, "The Slaughterhouse", 9:30 PM PT
Sam smiles his best fly-boy smile at her as he deposits the now empty glass on the table with a solid ‘thunk.' "Seein's how t'morrow's shapin' up ta be a pi guh kicker o' a day, sweetness," he adds, beginning to rise from his seat and offering a hand by way of invitation, "if yer wantin' that tour, I figger, now's th' time."

"What? Sure! I ain't looking for you to take me away though." She says taking Sam's hand to stand up.

Sam's smile brightens as her hand slips into his and, as she gets to her feet, he nudges her chair out of the way with the toe of his boot. "So, Miss Knowles," he grins, sounding a bit more flirtatious than the formal address might bear, "Ya got a ride er ya want we should try an' catch up ta ol' Wyatt?"

"I got my horse if you don't mind riding bitch." Misty replies eagerly. She then realizes what she just said and blushes prettily, "Umm, I mean riding pillion not that I umm, let's just let that one slide by." And she laughs. "I've been called worst but not by myself."

***

The ride and drive back to the ship is uneventful. Sam and Wyatt notices the deputy watching the Slaughterhouse as well but he makes no move to engage or even make eye contact with you

If Sam asks Misty - "Oh yeah. Patience likes to keep an eye on every pie. She tried going into the Slaughterhouse but everyone just stops talking and stares at her until she leaves. Patience don't intimidate easily but not many can stand to looks and the silence. So she posts men outside and they track everyone whop goes in and out, as if that means something to the Governor."


Sung spots Ma reading up in the observation dome. His discovery causes a short detour as he is inclined to hike the small staircase which draws the scarred woman's attention to him.

"How's the girl?" he puts towards her.

Ma nods her head and gives a small hand gesture That Wyatt knew meant all was well but Ma was worrying. Ma always worried. She wrote a brief note on her pad and showed it to the Captain, ‘Doctor is taking good care of her. You should talk to her though'."

"Well, we got another dilemma," Sung quietly remarks while removing his hat and running his free hand through his black hair. "I picked up work, but we leave t'morrow night so we've got t' find a solution fer the girl's predicamen'. Think on that, will ya, Ma? I'm not too keen on becomin' a wet nurse while tryin' t' earn a livin'."

Ma gestured a quick three step motion with her hand denoting things stacking up. Another note ‘Mrs. Wilson has family on Bellerophon. Offering to pay us some upfront and to stock our larder, sister will pay us more on drop off. By any chance would our job take us anywhere near there?"

(Pegasus is a moon of Bellerophon)

Dipping his head in polite thanks to the woman who holds the crew together, the captain of the boat strolls back down into the dining room and through it to the forward hall. There he is met by Doctor Stephanie who is making herself a tea. "Ahh Captain! Good evening. I hope your evening was prosperous?"

(response)

"Good. Good to hear. Chloe is doing well. She is responding well to rest and nutrition. Has Patricia already filled you in on Mrs. Wilson offer?

(response)

"Right. Well I want to go in the morning to the local Church and see if I can see the Father. I don't like assuming he is a , bad person by birthright. I will be discreet. A number of the staff here go to church in the morning so I will mix in with them. I should be fine without an armed escort."

(response, will leave it here and add more as W responds)



Dropping down his ladder into the homey chamber that is his quarters, Wyatt tosses his hat on his bed and immediately moves to Cortex terminal.

As the screen flares to life, Sung removes his gunbelt and hangs it on the back of the chair. "Let's see what I can find on ol' Saul Potter," he mutters as he drops into the chair and stretches the tension out of his shoulders.

(I will PM you the results)


Day 1, Whitefall - Necessity, Inside "The Honeydew", 10:30 PM PT
Wolf headed back toward the Slaughterhouse to talk to Eagle Eye. He saw that the Mule was gone, not a surprise as the Captain wasn't one for late nights in a bar. The mechanic looked inside the Slaughter house and saw that his friend Eagle- eye was still there.

(Assume you approach)

Eagle-Eye looked up at Wolf, "Your crew left about an hour or so ago. They called you but your weren't answering. Not getting into trouble I hope?"

(answer)
Wolf tells him about the fight - "well. Now that is interesting. I kinda suspected you would. You always enjoys a good scrap."

(response)

"Listen though. Bart may work for a real bad person but as far as I can tell, he ain't. He does what he does cause it is a way of life. You ain't fighting for your life anymore so just leave Perdition behind Dohn Ma?"

(Response)

"I'm just saying! You don't need to kill him. That's all. Said my piece. Now who was the lady? And don't play coy with me Wolf, I may have one eye but I can see the twinkle in both of yours.

Day 1, Whitefall - Necessity, Outside of "The Wreckage", 9:30 PM PT

Nelson O'Reilly staggering angrily toward them, locking on Asher and his fists are clenched with rage.

"You must be the engineer that Colleen here tells me she loves,Nelson, right?" Nelson makes a wild swing at Asher that he easily ducks, but Nelson stumbles and falls into the dirt. "Hey we was just going to get some noodle, want to join us?"

Nelson gets up and charges towards Asher again. "Nelson don't!" Collen yells angrily at him.

"A lot of noodles and little talk'n could make for a shiny evening." Asher says he sidesteps the drunken man and he falls on the ground again.

"Waitaminutedidhesayyouloveme?" Nelson says loudly with face in the dirt.

"Yeah he did, Nelson," Comes a voice from behind both Asher and Colleen. They turn to see an older gentleman, probably in his 50's or 60's with short hair and a serious look on his face. "Now come on. Enough with this and let's go home."

"Umm Captain I can explain." Collen says hesitantly.

"I am sure you can." The man replies. "But later, let's take care of our own. Max? Xian?"

A big man in a plain white t-shirt and camo pants comes forth and helps Nelson up. He nods a silent thanks to Asher. Behind him comes a rather short exotic looking lady. She is oriental but her eyes glow blue - literally (mech eyes) and her long hair is pure white as are her eyebrows. She also helps with Nelson but she examines him briefly that same way Willow would have. "He's had a Go Sa load, Hew but he'll be okay. Need to throw up and sleep it off."

"iain'tgonnathrow.."Nelson objects before throwing up on the ground between Max and Xian.

"Right, come on Colleen." The Captain says in a tone that allows no argument. He offers his hand to Asher. "Thanks for not decking my mechanic. Can't say I would have blamed you if you had. And also for being a gentleman with Colleen there."

Asher nods as he accepts the extended hand in a respectful firm one pump hand shake like his Daddy had taught him.

"You not on a hauler are you?"

"No sir, just bring'n in some goods."

"Right. Well, if you ever need anything I can help with, I'm Hewlett Stewart, Captain of the Morgan Creek."

"Pleasure to meet ya, Capt'n Stewart,. I'm Asher,Asher Talhone.. I'm the main deckhand on the Firefly..Rocinante,hope'n to learn a bit a engineer'n.

"Ahh. Transport. Never could enjoy that life. Not for everyone I guess."

Suddenly, Asher's comm squawks awkwardly, "The mule's headin' back t' Roc. Any o' you lot need a ride?" Wyatt's voice calls out.

Tapping his comm., "Capt'n..be right there."

Asher looks up at Colleen and Hew, "Well looks like noodle is out for tonight,gotta get myself."

The kid looked around at the others holding up Nelson then back to Hewlett. "Ya got a mighty fine crew.. Ya'll take care of each other."

Colleen waves to Asher, "Thanks Ash. Hope to see you around the Verse someday."

The kid tipped his hat then turned back and headed toward the Slaughter House.

The ride and drive back to the ship is uneventful. Sam and Wyatt notice the deputy watching the Slaughterhouse as well but he makes no move to engage or even make eye contact with either of them, so Wyatt chooses to the do the same, guiding the mule down the street to meet up with Asher on their way back to Roc.

Sung spots Ma reading up in the observation dome. His discovery causes a short detour as he is inclined to hike the small staircase which draws the scarred woman's attention to him.

"How's the girl?" he puts towards her.

Ma nods her head and gives a small hand gesture that Wyatt knows means all is well, but Ma is worrying. Ma always worries. She writes a brief note on her pad and shows it to the Captain, ‘Doctor is taking good care of her. You should talk to her though'."

"Well, we got another dilemma," Sung quietly remarks while removing his hat and running his free hand through his black hair. "I picked up work, but we leave t'morrow night so we've got t' find a solution fer the girl's predicamen'. Think on that, will ya, Ma? I'm not too keen on becomin' a wet nurse while tryin' t' earn a livin'."

Ma gestures a quick, three-step motion with her hand denoting things stacking up. Another note, ‘Mrs. Wilson has family on Bellerophon. Offering to pay us some upfront and to stock our larder. Sister will pay us more on drop off. By any chance, would our job take us anywhere near there?'

"Might," Wyatt considers. "Course, I doubt it'd be an on the way sort o' thing. I'll talk with Sam ‘bout it an' see what we can conjure up."

Dipping his head in polite thanks to the woman who holds the crew together, the captain of the boat strolls back down into the dining room and through it to the forward hall. There he is met by Doctor Stephanie, who is making herself a tea. "Ahh Captain! Good evening. I hope your evening was prosperous?"

"Well ‘nuff t' keep us flyin', Miss Stephanie," he states and draws up near the counter to continue the conversation he knows is coming.

"Good. Good to hear. Chloe is doing well. She is responding well to rest and nutrition. Has Patricia already filled you in on Mrs. Wilson offer?

"Shìde," Sung delivers and removes his hat to run his fingers through his hair. "Bellerophon's close t' Pegasus, which is where we're headin'. Sam an' I'll work on a flight plan t' see if we can swing the whole thing. We got passengers comin'. We got t' concoct a story ‘bout Chloe that don't reveal nothin' t' no one, if'n we're gonna transport the whole of ‘em."

"Right. Well, I want to go in the morning to the local Church and see if I can see the Father. I don't like assuming he is a , bad person by birthright. I will be discreet. A number of the staff here go to church in the morning so I will mix in with them. I should be fine without an armed escort."

"Miss Stephanie, it's always better t' assume someone's a bad sort an' set yerself straight once they prove otherwise than be taken unawares with yer pants ‘round yer ankles." Scrutinizing the woman's face through narrowed eyes, the captain adds, "You sure you gotta go? I don' see no advantage to it an' I'd rather not stir nothing up were it possible. We're due t' burn atmo late evening t'morrow."

(OOC: Wyatt will accept her answer. He's learned just how stubborn doctors can me by dealing with Willow.)

Leaving the ship's doctor to her tea, Wyatt makes his way to his bunk. Dropping down his ladder into the homey chamber, he tosses his hat on the bed and immediately moves to Cortex terminal.

As the screen flares to life, Sung removes his gun belt and hangs it on the back of the chair. "Let's see what I can find on ol' Saul Potter," he mutters as he drops into the chair and stretches the tension out of his shoulders.

Typing in a general search, he scans the results, muttering along with each discovery, "Wealthy family, Sihnon, Joined the Independents, Huh. Londinium Naval Office. Go figure." Scanning further down, Captain Sung brings up an Independent recruiting video showcasing Saul Potter.

"Not everyone in the Core believes that unification is the correct course," beams a blue-eyed, blond-haired woman with angular features and a dazzling smile. She sits behind a desk behind which is displayed a scene of chaos Wyatt has witnessed many times over the years. Bureaucrats throwing things, practically rioting and engaging in physical altercations with each other, all in the austere setting of the Great Hall of Congress. The footage was used throughout the War to cement each side's reasons for engaging in the slaughter.

Wyatt continues to watch as the reporter delivers a biography of Saul Potter that highlights his service to the Independents despite his family ties with the Central Planets. A decorated naval officer who eventually accepted the role of aide-de-camp to one Admiral Roland Sharpe—Wyatt pauses the playback and settles back in his seat.

Admiral Sharpe. That's someone Wyatt hadn't thought about in a long, long time. Every one of the Brown Coats knows who Admiral Sharpe is—or was—and what he did for the Cause. That's why Potter rang familiar. Sung can only assume that he's heard their names spoken in the same circles; famous Admiral Sharpe and his sacrifice for the Independents. And now, their passenger is, by all appearances, the former aide-de-camp to a war hero, a man every Browncoat respects, a legend. Locked in a state of awe, Sung finds himself absently reactivating the video feed and half listens as the reporter continues her discourse on Saul Potter.

"And that, that heroism, proves that you don't have to be from the Rim to fight for us. Join to—"

Shaking himself from his wonderment, Wyatt stops the playback again and leans forward. Typing in new commands, he focuses the search on Admiral Sharpe and breathlessly devours the content that is presented.

Admiral Roland Aloysius Sharpe was a senior officer in the Londinium Navy before the Alliance Parliament put all military forces under a unified chain of command. To his credit, Sharpe retired, refusing to serve the new Parliament of the Union of Allied Planets. Instead, he joined the Independent Planets and was given the distinction of being the senior naval officer for the Independent Planets Space Navy.

During the Unification War, Sharpe was one of the key individuals who turned the Independent rebels into a fighting force able to resist the vastly superior Alliance for five years. He led the small Independent Navy throughout the war and commanded from his flagship "the Arms of Grace."

The next bit of news pieces covers the conspiracy around the Admiral's current situation. "Assassinated," Wyatt mumbles, remaining intent on the screen. "Assassinated, assassinated, went into hiding, ran away, being held prisoner by the Alliance, committed suicide," breathing out in disgust, Roc's captain scrolls deeper into the search and confirms what he could remember. "Vanished. Ain't no one seen, ‘er heard from him since."

Pausing his skimming on another recording, Sung commands it to play and stands up to stretch out his lower back.

"Despite the tense excitement spreading throughout the chamber in the early hours of this hearing, one big question remains," a darker-skinned man explains wearing a Central Planets-styled gray suit and looking over-worked and tired. "Where is Admiral Sharpe? Speculation over whether or not the infamous leader of the rebellion's navy would show seem to have been just. No one seems to know where he, or the crew of the ‘the Arms of Grace,' his battleship, are."

"What's the word on how this affront is going to be handled by the Parliament, Sameer?" A black-haired woman in a pale pink blouse shows up on the screen in a split view.

"Well, Leslie," Sameer raises his brows and shakes his head while offering a practiced frown, "nothing good, I'm afraid. The Parliament has stated that any leaders of the failed Independent faction who do not show up for the Amnesty Court are to be considered terrorists. I'm afraid that's how Admiral Sharpe's illustrious career is going to end, Leslie, as a fugitive."

Drawn back into his chair by the end of the report, Sung closes out the video and adds "fugitive" to his search options. Immediately, almost with a sense of urgency, a module pops up in front of him with a rotating image of an aged Admiral Roland Aloysius Sharpe with the words, "25,000 credits" flashing slowly below him. Options to view the pictures of the rest of his crew are also ready to be used, but Wyatt's focus is on the hardened and harsh-looking features of the great man while feelings of patriotism and loss resurrect in his chest.

He's not aware of time passing as he watches the slow turn of Sharpe's profile image. The Alliance hasn't been kind in their depiction of him. Mandarin characters label him a coward, a terrorist, a scoundrel, and more hurtful adjectives about his character. Allowing the flowing icons to burn into his eyes, the captain and loyal Browncoat burns with the interior fire only a warrior defeated in an unjust battle can stoke.

"You've two choices, Mr. Sung," the Law states from across the smooth, dingy desk that sits between them. "You can stay here an' face the noose,"

Wyatt can still feel the shackles about his wrists; heavy and thick enough that even in his righteous anger and loss-filled pain, he is still woefully aware of their presence. Looking up from his scarred hands, a much younger Sung asked, "Or?"

"Or," the marshal sinks back into his chair with the creaking of ancient spring coils. "You can git the hell off my planet an' join up with the Independents."

Even then, Wyatt's stare had a hard edge to it. He wasn't quite adept as he is now at keeping his cool when under pressure, but he could manage. "What do ya mean? I got land—"

"You had land, Mr. Sung," the lawman corrects. "Had bein' the operative word here. You kilt a bunch of folk today, an' though they certainly deserve what you gave ‘em, I have t' answer to a higher authority. I guarantee you that this higher authority ain't gonna see things the way I do."

"How's that? Them boys murdered—"

"An' you murdered them boys!" the lawman growls while the fire burns brighter within the young widower. "That's how them Alliance lawmen are gonna see it. You ain't got no right t' hurt them boys, let alone kill ‘em. No matter what they done."

Leaning forward, the sheriff wipes the anger from his rugged face and draws a more compassionate expression up in its stead. "Wyatt, I heard you an' Hayword talkin' ‘bout the war effort an' I'm highly sensitive to yer plight. Take my offer, son. Take my offer an' don' come back. Make yer life, an' their deaths, mean something."

"Make yer life, an' their deaths, mean something." Those words followed Wyatt through the war. Even now, they seem to echo through the metal walls of Roc's crew quarters jarring the captain from his reverie.

Coughing into the hand he's using to wipe the haze from his face, Sung blinks his vision back into alignment and presses his tongue against the dry roof of his mouth. Drink is how he used to deal with situations like this and the powerful urge to fall back into the bottle struggles against his willpower.

"‘Hem," coughing again, he rolls his shoulders. "Focus on somethin' else," he commands, leaning forward once more and losing any further urge to even think more about the past, about their new passengers, or Admiral Sharpe. "Pegasus. Tell me ‘bout Pegasus."

Typing in his request, Captain Sung scans the information presented to him by the Cortex. "Moon of Bellerophon—knew that, Terraforming didn' go well. Hmmm. No' much cover." Rolling his gaze over the reports of acidity levels by Alliance scientists, he registers the mention of scrub growth, lichen, and crabgrasses. Buried amongst what the ‘Verse could surely care less about is the mention of the base that Wyatt thinks he remembers. "Construction never completed, Bettin' this base has somethin' t' do with our destination."

There's not much more about the base as the Alliance seems to have clamped their fist around any useful information and withdrawn it from the Public's view. One thing that is revealed by the search into the moon is that Saul was correct about the apogee of Pegasus. Whitefall and Pegasus are as close as they ever get to each other and for the next week travel time between the two is severely reduced. Two days ought to be enough time even when flying dark. Realizing their job just became easier, Wyatt's nerves release their hold on his stomach and a fluttering of relief makes its tingling journey out through his extremities.

"Thirty-five years ‘til this happens again," he muses. "By Buddha, I hope we're still flyin' when it does." Clearing the screen, Captain Sung pulls up his ship communications system and drops in a few of the articles covering the apogee, the information he'd found on the moon and the base, as well as his thoughts about their destination on Pegasus. Then, rounding off the message, he adds his thoughts concerning Chloe and Bellapheron so that Sam can consider everything as he looks at potential flight plans. Not finding it necessary to put a signature of any kind to the message, and having already buried the experience thinking about Admiral Sharpe brought about while not wishing to revisit it, Sung sends Dash the information and switches off his screen.

Blinking at the small green pinpoint light center on the console, he whispers, "Willow, I hope yer well, This is fer you."

Rising from the chair, he slides it back beneath the Cortex link, walks to his vanity and pulls the sink into operation. Turning on the water, Captain Sung takes up the small tin cup he keeps in the basin and fills it to the brim. Tossing the warmish liquid down his throat, he closes his eyes and prays that it will be enough to satiate his desire to drink himself into oblivion. It isn't. But his promise to Willow is, and Wyatt takes a deep breath before setting about readying himself for bed.

Day 1, Whitefall - Necessity, Inside "The Honeydew", 10:25 PM PT

Wolf headed back toward the Slaughterhouse to talk to Eagle Eye. He saw that the Mule was gone, not a surprise as the Captain wasn't one for late nights in a bar. The mechanic looked inside the Slaughter house and saw that his friend Eagle- Eye was still there. Heading right for him the big mechanic noticed no sign of Wyatt, Sam or Ash. Gaining the table he took a seat as Eagle-Eye greeted him.

"Your crew left about an hour or so ago. They called you but your weren't answering. Not getting into trouble I hope?"

"No, no trouble, just a little bit of recon on that fellow Bart and a lil down time afterwards" Pausing as if trying to keep a secret Fenris smiles. "I'll do the fight for you but it might leave some permanite damage" Lowering his voice he told Eagle Eye about Bart's recent broken rib on the Whatefall's fighter's left side.

"Well. Now that is interesting. I kinda suspected you would. You always enjoys a good scrap. Listen though. Bart may work for a real bad person but as far as I can tell, he ain't. He does what he does cause it is a way of life. You ain't fighting for your life anymore so just leave Perdition behind Dohn Ma?"

At the mention of the two's former shared home the burned in branded tattoo seems to itch. Looking at Eagle-Eye, Fenris's eyes turn a little hard.

"Hard to leave it behind as its branded across our backs Eagle-Eye. What are you telling me?"

"I'm just saying! You don't need to kill him. That's all. Said my piece. Now who was the lady? And don't play coy with me Wolf, I may have one eye but I can see the twinkle in both of yours."

Fenris's eyes still hard he replied. "I won't kill him, as you've reminded me this is not Perdition, and never intended to. I do intend to win and I will be hitting that side when I get the chance but times change, so do people." The mechanic's eyes then softened and he smiled.

"They said her name was Clementine nice lady" A troublesome thought crossed the Rocinantes big mechanics mind causing his face to again become hard. "Crap, when I win the fight what happens afterwards? Rocinante ain't gonna be here forever, will there be any repercussions after we space? They'll know someone told me about his left side if I pound him there. Only person in all Whitefall coulda told me is the girl. Will she be ok or will Bart's boss Patience go after her?".....

(Wait on reply)

Day 1, Whitefall - Necessity, "The Slaughterhouse", 9:30 PM PT

"Seein's how t'morrow's shapin' up ta be a pi guh kicker o' a day, sweetness," Sam smiles as he gets to his feet and offers Misty a hand, "if yer wantin' that tour, I figger, now's th' time."

"What? Sure!" The surprise in the young lady's voice and eyes brightens the pilot's smile. "I ain't looking for you to take me away though."

"Wa wan quan ming bai, (I understand completely)," Sam returns as her hand slips into his and she gets to her feet. "So, Miss Knowles," he grins, sounding a bit more flirtatious than the formal address might bear, "Ya got a ride er ya want we should try an' catch up ta ol' Wyatt?"

"I got my horse if you don't mind riding bitch." Misty replies eagerly. She then realizes what she just said and blushes prettily, "Umm, I mean riding pillion not that I umm, let's just let that one slide by." And she laughs. "I've been called worse but not by myself."

"See there," Dash chuckles, escorting her toward the door, "tha's somethin' we got in common, darlin', I been called worse, m'self. An', nah, I don' mind ridin' bitch," he adds with a wink, "gets ya in my lap that much sooner, get me?"

Misty's laugh is probably the sweetest thing Sam's ears have heard in quite a while and, regardless of whether or not she wanted him to ‘take her away,' he figured it was a sound he wouldn't tire of easily and, already, found himself hoping that he'd hear more of it in the future.

As they stepped out into the streets of Necessity hand in hand and she leads him to where her horse is tethered, Dash's gaze reluctantly lets go of the girl and slides to where the town's deputy stands surveilling The Slaughterhouse. The man doesn't move to engage or even meet the pilot's eye, for that matter, but something about the deputy's very presence pings at Sam's twitchiness and curiosity. "What's wit' th' law eyeballin' th' place, bao bei," he queries, tipping his head faintly in the deputy's direction.

"Oh yeah," Misty replies with a disinterested glance in the lawman's direction, "Patience likes to keep an eye on every pie. She tried going into the Slaughterhouse but everyone just stops talking and stares at her until she leaves. Patience don't intimidate easily but not many can stand the looks and the silence. So she posts men outside and they track everyone who goes in and out, as if that means something to the Governor."

"Huh," Sam mumbles, mildly curious as to what Patience might be hoping to gain by keeping tabs on the Slaughterhouse's patronage. The thought quickly slips to the back of his mind, though, as Misty swings herself up into the saddle and, following a not so discrete second of appreciating the girl's backside, Sam mounts up behind her.

The ride back to the ship is uneventful but the conversation is enjoyable and the closeness of the woman even more so. When they reach the Rocinante, Sam finds himself almost disappointed that the ride passed so quickly. None of that disappointment comes through in his voice, though, when he slides off the horse, gestures at the looming Firefly, and says; "Here she is, darlin', th' other woman. Or, y'know, home sweet home."

"Wow," a wide-eyed Misty says as she dismounts and absently hitches her horse to a landing strut, "I reckon this is the closest I've ever been to a real spaceship, Wa cao (amazing)!"

There's no missing the pride in Sam's smile as his eyes follow her's over Rocinante's hull. "Yup," he nods, "she's got some years on ‘er an' more'n a few miles but she's a helluva boat, Th' outside ain't th' best part, though, C'mon, lemme give ya th' five credit tour." He takes her hand, then, and leads her to the personnel door at the front of the ship.

They pass through the airlock and another door into the cavernous expanse of the cargo bay where, Sam notes, Wyatt has left the mule parked.

"Aiya," Misty exclaims, her hazel eyes taking in the vast space with unfettered amazement, "it's huge!"

"Well, yeah," Sam chuckles, "it's the cargo bay. Can't make no scratch if'n ya ain't got room fer cargo, right?" As they stroll across the deck, Dash waves absently at the mule; "It'd look a might bigger if'n Wyatt woulda put his toys away. When we's flyin', th' mule typical lives up there," he gestures to the ceiling where the hoist for the vehicle is mounted and her eyes follow. "I reckon Wolf an' the Kid're gonna be needin' a ride home, later, so he's gone and left ‘er unhitched,"

"Wolf and the Kid," she blinks curiously, her gaze finding his face, again.

"Wolf's our resident grease-monkey," Sam explains, guiding her around the mule and toward the aft-port gangway, "an' th' Kid, er Asher, if ya pr'fer, let's jus' say he's kinda public relations, get me?"

Misty nods and smiles, her fascinated gaze still roving over the ship's interior. As Sam takes the first step on the gangway, she pauses for an instant and points to the door at the back of the cargo hold; "What's through there?"

"Ah," the pilot says, his eyes following her gesture as he leans on the railing, "That'd be th' infirmary, mostly, an' guest cabins beyond that," He'd thought about taking her through there, at first, but, what with Chloe being tended there and the implication that no one needed to know about it, he figured it would be best to avoid that area. ",I c'n show ya, if ya want," he grins, "but Doc Brown's like ta have a conniption. She tends ta get all bunched up if'n yer jus' in there hangin' around, Don't want ya breathin' germs on ‘er gear er some gou pi."

She offers a little giggle and a nod of understanding as she takes to the gangway herself. "Wouldn't wanna piss off the doctor, would we," Misty smiles, urging Sam to continue.

"Nope," the pilot agrees with a chuckle of his own as he clips up the steps to the mid-deck, "Never a good idea." He guides her along the catwalk, stopping at the airlock to give her a peek at the shuttle in it's dock on the other side before moving on

"So, I've met Wyatt," she says, "and there's you, Wolf, this kid, Asher, and Doctor Brown. Is that all of yer crew?"

Dash shrugs a little; "Most of ‘em." He pauses, again, as Misty peer over the catwalk railing at the cargo hold below. "We got Ma, too," he adds as her eyes come back to meet his, "She's prob'ly th' most important crew we got, ya want th' truth o' it,"

"Ma?"

"Yeah," Dash nods, leading her on to the gangway on the other side of the catwalk, "her name's Trish but most of us call ‘er ‘Ma' as she pretty much takes care o' the bunch o' us. Cleanin', cookin', grabbin' us by th' ears when we need it," He stops halfway up the steps, realizing that Ma might actually be in the common area when he leads Misty through, and turns to face the girl following behind him, "Ya might get ta meet ‘er, actually," he says softly, "If ya do, don' freak out; she don' talk none an' some quack of a doc humped her face up pretty good back in the day. Makes ‘er a might skittish around new folk. Th' woman's ugly as sin on th' outside but purty as any angel on th' inside."

"Duhn ruhn," Misty smiles reassuringly as she nods her understanding, "Sounds like ya love yer Ma, Sam."

"Gorram right," Dash grins back, resuming his progress up the steps then, "more'n jus' about any woman in th' Verse."

"That's sweet!"

"Heh, don' let it get around, darlin'," he almost blushes, "I got a rep as a ching soh t' protect."

"Your secret's safe with me," she winks as they reach the top of the steps.

"‘Preciate it," he replies with a wink of his own before leading her through the doorway into the common area. "This here's where we feed an' feud," he jests, running a hand over the top of the table at the room's center as his gaze searches out the area for any sign of Ma. Not finding the beloved woman anywhere in sight, he gestures at the serving counter and the galley beyond; "Tha's where Ma turns pro-paste inta some of th' best vittles ye'll ever have in th' Black,"

The pair spent a few moments in the common area and gazing up at Whitefall's night sky through the observation dome before they moved aft and Sam gave Misty a quick walk through of the engine room. He explained some of the workings of the ship's engines and extolled Wolf's ability to keep Roc flying even in some pretty hairy predicaments, then, that done, he led her back up the hallway and through the common room, again, to emerge into the forward hall on the other side. "This is where most of us bunk," he explains as they stroll toward the bridge, naming off which crew member occupies which cabin as they pass each hatch... "An' this'n's mine," he taps the hatch to his bunk with the toe of his boot as they pass the cabin closest to the bridge but doesn't bother to stop. Instead, he leads her up the short flight of steps and into Rocinante's cockpit. "This, meili (beautiful)," he beams, making an expansive gesture to encompass the entirety of the space, "is where th' real magic happens,"

"Oh," she almost whispered the word, her mouth falling open and eyes widening to reflect every glimmer of the console lights, "it's, it's,"

"Pretty niuba (f-ing awesome), right?" Sam grins, finding the words she seemed unable to, as he flops into his seat, watching her as she saunters slowly around the cockpit, her slender fingers tentatively gliding over consoles and controls.

"Niuba," Misty smiles appealingly as she nods and her eyes find their way back to him, "Exactly." There is something extremely enticing in the way she sashays toward him, then, and the wonder in her expression becomes comingled with want. "It takes all of this to pilot this thing," she veritably purrs the question.

"Yup . All of this," Sam nods faintly, unable to tear his eyes from her as she draws nearer, "and these," He holds up his hands and, as he does, she places hers in them and pulls herself into his lap.

"Show me how it works?" she coos seductively enough for Sam's heart to flutter.

"I reckon you a'ready know how it works, bao bei," he chides as she wriggles a bit in his lap and his arms slide around her, "but, yeah, ask an' ye shall receive, as they say,"

The next unmeasured span of time is spent with Sam giving Misty what amounts to a "down and dirty" introduction to the Firefly's navigation systems and flight controls, both of them liberally peppering the conversation with innuendo as it continues. It's not long before giggles and bawdy laughter begin to drift from the bridge. By the time he's shown her all he can think of to explain about the ship, Sam is more than certain that his pants have shrunk a size or three, "I reckon that's about it, far's th' tour's concerned, darlin'," he murmurs, his lips against her neck and arms around her waist.

"Oh, I don't know about that, Sam," she purrs in response, wriggling herself closer to him (if such a thing was possible). "I've only seen the doorway to your bunk, after all," she continues, turning, now, to straddle him and drape her arms over his shoulders, "I was kind of hoping to see the whole thing."

"Ask an' ye shall receive, sweetness," Dash grins lustily as she leans in and her lips brush over his.

"I'm askin'," she whispers before her mouth closes over his.

Still locked in the kiss, Sam slides his hands under her backside and rises to his feet, lifting her as he goes, and carries her from the bridge to the hallway, once more. Their hungry caresses are interrupted only long enough for Dash to open the hatch to his cabin and the two of them to disappear through it,.

((OOC: What happens behind closed doors can easily be guessed at, I'm sure. From this point, I imagine that Sam and Misty do the "rip-tear-fling" business and fall asleep, spent from the interaction. Sam wakes a bit later to find that Misty crept out earlier, leaving behind a note saying something along the lines of "Thanks for everything!!! It was fun! Look me up the next time you find yourself in town. XOXO, Misty"

It'll be at this point that he sees the communique from Wyatt and, being all happy from his romp with the girl, will set about figuring out flight plans and such for their upcoming trip to Pegasus.))

"They said her name was Clementine nice lady" A troublesome thought crossed the Rocinante's big mechanics mind causing his face to again become hard. "Crap, when I win the fight what happens afterwards? Rocinante ain't gonna be here forever, will there be any repercussions after we space? They'll know someone told me about his left side if I pound him there. Only person in all Whitefall coulda told me is the girl. Will she be ok or will Bart's boss Patience go after her?"

"Clementine Pennyfeather?" Eagle-Eye smiled and laughed, "Oh if there is one woman in this town that you need not worry about, it is her. Frankly, I don't think you will need an advantage to beat Bart. He fighting farmers and been fighting farmers. Patience got the advantage because he is trained and thinks she's smarter than us by doing so. Now you go in and focus on the hurt area, she may get suspicious but you been in fights before. You hold the spot like a trump card, and play it when the time is right. No one will know the better."

(response)

"Now I think we still keep this down low as possible and not put your name in but make sure you are on the "hand" list. That way we don't let Patience get any foolish notions. She has no honour or conscious and would kill for a couple of platinum, let alone how much we are going to cost her tomorrow."

(response)

Eagle-Eye and Wolf share a few more drinks and talk about things for awhile. When it comes time to get home, Eagle borrows a horse from Kim as he don't think his horse would appreciate him and Wolf on his back. They part company at the ship and Wolf goes in to Rocinante for the evening. Outside, he sees there is a horse tied up next to Rocinante, happily eating grass. Once inside, as he makes his way up the catwalk, he meets up with a young brunette who he vaguely recalls seeing at the Slaughterhouse.

"Oh!" She is startled, "Sorry I didn't think anyone would be up. I'm Misty and I'm just on my way out."

(response)

"Well, I was just spending some time with Sam but I better run. Nice meeting you."

(response)

Wolf watches Misty leave, now knowing who belongs to the horse outside.

Day 2, Whitefall - Necessity, "The Slaughterhouse", 8:00 AM PT
Life starts early on a farm and so Ms. Wilson drops off a care package to the ship early in the am, checks on Chloe and tells Stephanie the wagon to church will be leaving at 8:30 am if she wants a lift. She also confirms the coordinates of her sisters range on Bellerophon. While the plaent is known for the float islands of the rich, there is a whole continent of farmers that grows food specifically for that clientele. It is one of these that Chloe is going to, assuming she does but is still adamant that she wants Petrie to go with her. Ms. Wilson will give 50 credits up front and her sister will give another 50 when you deliver the young lady. As well she is going to give some provisions and supplies to Ma for the kitchen.

Meanwhile, the smell of frying bacon and eggs starts to fill the air system of the Rocinante as well as the smell of real brewed coffee - not the instant crystal kind.

Dr. Stephanie dresses in a plain but dressy outfit and will depart to meet the ladies unless anyone wants to join her for the journey.

Misty Knowles gave Sam a gentle kiss and then got dressed as quietly as she could. As much as she wished she could spend the night and a morning with him, she had snuck out on her Mom and had to be home before dawn or there would be hell to pay. She wrote out a quick note foe Sam and left, hoping that one day they might meet again. As much as Misty would fantasise about getting off planet and seeing the verse, she had obligations to her mom.

She remembered from her tour the route to get out of the ship and was making her way through the kitchen to the gangway and down the stairs. She almost bumped into a huge man on the way out - but she made her way pass the ship's mechanic and to the cargo bay. Just as she was at the bottom of the stairs, she her a voice call out. It was a girl's voice calling for Petrie. Misty didn't remember that name mentioned by Sam and the only Petrie she knew wouldn't be on this ship. She shrugged and made her way out and on her horse.

She made her way in the dark to her farm in about an hour. Once she had put the horse in the stable, she made her way to the bedroom window to slip in but found the window was closed and latched.

Uh no. She thought, Busted. Oh well, her mom might scold her for going out like an improper lady but Misty was her own person and wasn't about to change now. She made her way into the house by the front door and headed to the kitchen where light streamed from the bottom of the door.

Misty swung the door open, "Ma? Listen I am sorry that ,.."

Misty stopped talking. In her kitchen were four armed men, her mom in a chair between them. Closest to the door, was the Governor herself - Patience Imogen and beside her was Reverend Tubbs looking rather stern.

"Well now Missy," Patience drawled, "You have been a very bad girl haven't you? Going out at nights. Sleepin' with strange men on space ships?"

Misty was speechless, just looking from person to person in her kitchen. Seeing the fear in her mom's eyes and thinking What have I done?

"Take a seat Misty." The Reverend said while pushing a chair her way, "Confession is good for the soul and we need to save that soul of yours."

"And leave nuthin' out, " Patience said in a dangerous tone, "I want to know everythin' you saw, every person you met and everythin' you were told while on that ship. If I don't like what I hear, well I will end you and your mom and take this lovely farm. Dohm ma?"

Day 2, Whitefall – Rocinante, Dash’s cabin, 3:21 a.m.

He wasn’t sure whether it was the smell of her that lingered in the air or, instead, if it was the memory of their grapplin’ from earlier that stirred Sam from his slumber. Whichever of the two it was, it didn’t really matter; he was awake and he was most certainly stirred. His eyes hadn’t yet opened, though, and with her scent in his nose and the want of her rousing about in his nethers, he rolled over and reached for the girl he thought was still sharing his bunk and wrapped his arms around nothing…

“Ta mah de,” Sam half-groaned, his eyes fluttering open to regard the empty space atop the rumpled sheets where Misty had  been laying when he’d fallen asleep, “Gorram it! I was hopin’ fer at least one more round.”

The sigh that followed his grousing was filled with both exasperation and, somehow, contentment, all at once. When his seeking fingers found the crumpled note that she’d left, the next sigh to blow past his lips was definitely heavier on the contentment. He sat up as he unfolded the little slip of paper, swinging his legs over the side of the bunk and grinning as his eyes drifted blearily around the cabin and saw where all of his clothes had ended up… Ya done wore me out, Misty Knowles, he chuckled to himself as his gaze dipped to the now unfolded note in his hands, too ruttin’ bad ya din’t wanna be taken away. When his vision processed the first words of what she’d written, Sam was more than a little glad that he was in the privacy of his own room; as hot as his cheeks felt, he was sure he was blushin’ red as a hot house tomato…

 

Sammy,

Thanks for EVERYTHING! It was more than fun! Look me up next time youre in town.
XOXO,

 

 

Misty

 

“Sammy,” he chuckle-whispered into the murk of his cabin, lifting the note to his nose and sniffing deeply to capture the smell of her from the paper. “Darlin’, ya c’n guaran-damn-tee I’ll be lookin’ ya up ever’ time I find m’self out this way.”

 

He tucked the note under his pillow, then, and snatched his shorts from where they hung from a light jutting from the bulkhead. Once he managed to get those pulled up around his hips, he scooped his shirt up off the floor and stuffed his feet into his boots (as soon as he found both of them) before he climbed, half-dressed as he was, out into the forward hallway. Following a yawn, a stretch, and a bit of inappropriate scratching, Rocinante’s pilot found his way outside, humming happily to himself the entire way, and, after a moment of truly appreciating the early-morning sky of Whitefall, took a moment to relieve himself under a nearby tree before meandering back up the loading ramp.

 

For a few moments, Sam had thought about simply returning to his bunk and trying to slip back into that sated and silky slumber he’d fallen into thanks to Misty’s tender administrations but, by the time he reached Roc’s mid-deck, he thought better of it…

 

Reckon I best get a jump on a flight plan ta Pegasus, he told himself, climbing the gangway up to the forward ahll, once more, ‘Specially if we’s ta be all sneaky an’ roundabout.

 

…So it was that Dash found himself on the bridge – in just his boxers, boots, and a rumpled t-shirt – bringing the consoles online and spinning up his nav programs. There was more yawning, stretching, and scratching while the bridge lit up and, as he rubbed his eyes and peered at the recently lit display before him, the first thing he noticed was an unsigned message that could’ve only come from Wyatt. Of course, he opened and read that before he commenced to tackling anything else. There were links to several articles on the Cortex included in the message and, happily, some really good news regarding the proximity of Pegasus and her mother planet, Bellerophon, for which Sam was grateful. Also, as expected, there were some notes on Wyungsung’s personal thoughts where the trip and, in particular, the pregnant girl, Chloe, were concerned. Sam absorbed each and every snippet and, before setting about making any solid navigational plans or adjustments to the flight control systems, sent a reply to his friend and captain…

 

Cap,

I thought I recognized Potter’s name, just couldn’t place from exactly where when first we met the ta ma de (f***er). Makes a bit of sense to me now that I done read this. Not sure what to make about the base on Pegasus, though. I reckon they probably started work on that after I ghosted Trent, get me? We might wanna play it tight goin’ in, just in case things get sketchy where the presence of that base is concerned.

As to the proximity of Pegasus, right now… Don’t reckon we could’ve caught a better break, there, brother! Twitchy part of me says Potter couldn’t have picked us up at a better time. Pilot part of me says Buddha be praised, right? Again, given both of them things, I say we keep it tight and close goin’ in.

Reckon that gets us to little momma stowed away down in the infirmary. If you’re ku with doin’ that drop, my friend, you know I am. Figure we’d be best served to drop her of before we get Potter to where he’s going… ain’t no sense in involving that poor girl if something goes tits up with our job, dohn ma? Up to you, of course. Just my two credits, there.

Anyhoo, I’m up if you wanna discuss further. Laying in flight plans and all that s#!t on the bridge. I’ll even put my gorram pants on. Elsewise, I’ll see ya at breakfast.

~Sam

 

…Sending the message off, Dash slid from the pilot’s seat and, as promised, returned to his bunk long enough to retrieve and put on his tattered jeans. Once he was more or less properly attired for mixed company, the pilot found his way back to the bridge and spent the next few hours plotting out a preferred and several, acceptable, alternate courses to Bellerophon and, her moon, Persephone. He spends some time, too, fine tuning the reaction control systems, configuring his console and control layout for running dark, and making notes for Wolfy to consider where the engines are concerned on Roc’s pending voyage. By the time he’s finished and despite the general noise and clatter of his crewmates waking up and moving about the ship, Sam’s attentions are snatched from the work he’s been doing on the bridge to the aromas drifting up the corridor from the galley…  Is that real coffee?.. Sam swivels his chair away from his console and gets to his feet, letting the minutia of the past few hours’ work slip from his mind as he strides down the hallway toward the common area.

 

“Mornin’, folks,” he almost sing-songs as he steps into Roc’s gathering room, “Hope ya’l’s night was’s good as mine!” Grinning like a fool and absently humming under his breath again, Sam makes a beeline for the galley and, after planting a kiss on Ma’s cheek, helps himself to a large cup of the freshly brewed coffee before taking his usual seat at the table. “I got me some, last night,” he grinned at the faces around the table following a long, satisfied pull from his mug, “How’d ya’ll do?”

 

((OOC: Not assuming anything other than strange looks and maybe a “oh, shut up, Sam” ))

 

The pilot chuckles, softly and fondly, recalling the hours he spent with Misty. Then, his gaze skinning faces, again, he asks; “So, we gonna talk ‘bout this job, now, er we gonna get chores an’ s#!t outta th’ way first?” Not waiting for an immediate answer, his eyes fix on Wyatt; “Cap, I got some plans an’ back-up plans laid out on m’ console if’n ya wanna take a gander…”

 

((OOC: Okay, just went with what I figured Sam’s morning might be like after his night with Misty, here. If Wyatt happens to be awake and joins Sam on the bridge before “breakfast” I can and will happily edit to reflect… Also going on the assumption that most, if not all, of the crew will be present in the common room when Sam janders in… and Buddha help anyone involved if, for some reason, Dash finds out Misty’s been accosted by Patience and her gang… that might blow the trip outta the black all by itself. ))

Day 1, Whitefall - Necessity, Inside "The Honeydew", 11,30 PM PT

They said her name was Clementine nice lady” A troublesome thought crossed the Rocinante’s big mechanics mind causing his face to again become hard. “Crap, when I win the fight what happens afterwards? Rocinante ain’t gonna be here forever, will there be any repercussions after we space? They’ll know someone told me about his left side if I pound him there. Only person in all Whitefall coulda told me is the girl. Will she be ok or will Bart’s boss Patience go after her?”

“Clementine Pennyfeather?” Eagle-Eye smiled and laughed, “Oh if there is one woman in this town that you need not worry about, it is her. Frankly, I don’t think you will need an advantage to beat Bart. He fighting farmers and been fighting farmers. Patience got the advantage because he is trained and thinks she’s smarter than us by doing so. Now you go in and focus on the hurt area, she may get suspicious but you been in fights before. You hold the spot like a trump card, and play it when the time is right. No one will know the better.”

“You telling me how to fight now my friend?” Fenris looks at his friend a smirking kind of smile on his face on his face. “Ok good I don’t want to hear she’s been hurt after we hit atmo. As for me fighting how do I get in? Do I have to be a planet resident to fight him or could I just challenge him?”

"Jeremiah will get you on the list. Keep things as low key as possible and after Bart's the first fight, you challenge him. Patience's people will try to stop you as not being a hand but I got it covered" - Alacrity insert

“Now I think we still keep this down low as possible and not put your name in but make sure you are on the “hand” list. That way we don’t let Patience get any foolish notions. She has no honor or conscious and would kill for a couple of platinum, let alone how much we are going to cost her tomorrow.”

“Understood lets hope all goes ok as you want, never forget people have a way of interfering.”

After a few more drinks Eagle Eye offers up a horse for the trip back and after another butt bumping horse ride they arrive at Rocinante without incident. As Fenris and Eagle Eye part company the big mechanic notices that there is a horse tied up next to Rocinante, happily eating grass at the ship. Shaking his head knowing that Wyatt may have won it in that card game, he stares at it for a moment then heads inside the ship. His mind filled with a where to store a horse he comes face to face with a young brunette who he vaguely recalls seeing at the Slaughterhouse.

“Oh!” She is startled, “Sorry I didn’t think anyone would be up. I’m Misty and I’m just on my way out.”

“Ahhh hi I’m Fenris” At a loss for words Fenris can only get out his name.

“Well, I was just spending some time with Sam but I better run. Nice meeting you.”

“Ahhh ok sure” As the big mechanic watches Misty leave, now knowing who belongs to the horse, his mind turns from storing a horse in the cargo bay and back to winning a fight. Reaching his cabin he he removes his boots lays back and thanks to the alcohol in his system is fast asleep within minutes.

Morning is unusually rough for Sung. Blinking away the sleep, he groans as he rolls into a seated position and foggily allows his eyes to focus on his bare feet. The pregnant girl, Chloe, is prominent on his mind. He can easily recall the pregnancy Eden experienced with Summer and being thrust suddenly back into the proximity of an expecting woman is messing with his peace.

Begrudgingly rising and preparing himself for the day with a brief shower, shave, and fresh clothing, Wyatt straps his weapons back into place and climbs the ladder leading back to the main hall where he glances back towards the cockpit. Sam is there… mostly. He’s missing his pants and appears to be hard at work. Not wishing to disturb the pilot, Wyatt continues on into the galley where he finds Ma beginning to prepare the crew’s breakfast.

“Morning, Ma,” Wyatt mumbles. “The girl still in the infirmary?”

The silent woman nods and waves hello to the captain as he walks past on his way to visit their guest; their controversial guest. Stepping up to the door, he pauses and looks over the scene before him, considering the encounter.

Eden had never been able to sleep late due to her morning sickness. Even though Chloe is lying down, Wyatt hopes she’s awake.

“Miss Chloe?” He doesn’t enter the room yet. Doing so seems forward to him despite the room being his infirmary.

(OOC: Assuming an answer.)

“Do you mind if’n I join ya?”

(OOC: Assuming an affirmative.)

Moving to place his buttocks against the rim of the counter, Wyatt places his hat on the surface next to him and raises his eyes to meet the face of the woman he’s offered sanctuary to. Running his left hand through his black hair, the captain begins.

“We’ve taken a job that’ll bring us t’ Pegasus, Bellerophon’s moon. You got a chance t’ start anew there. Is this what ya want?”

(OOC: Assuming some comment about Petrie.)

“Can’t say that’s a possibility, Miss,” Wyatt drawls. “Way I understand it, he’s the son o’ someone important-like. That’d draw an unfortunate amount o’ attention our way an’ I ain’t keen on attention.”

(OCC: Assuming some argument.)

“What d’ ya think’ll happen should yer boyfriend go a-missin’ an’ we’re the only transport that’s burned atmo in the associated window, Miss Chloe?” Shaking his head, Sung continues, “I ain’t riskin’ my crew nor the other passengers we’re takin’ on, t’ be labeled kidnappers by Patience an’ her crew. So, I’m afraid the answer is a no. Does this change yer mind in goin’ t’ Bellerophon?”

Day 2, Whitefall - Rocinante, 7:00 AM PT

Stepping up to the door, Wyatt pauses and looks over the scene before him, considering the encounter.
“Miss Chloe?” He doesn’t enter the room yet. Doing so seems forward to him despite the room being his infirmary.

The young girl looks over at Wyatt and sits up. “Yes? Are you the Captain here?”

“Do you mind if’n I join ya?”

Fear plays across Chloe’s face, unhidden terror as the first thing that goes through her mind is that Wyatt means something else by joining her. She recoils backwards in the bed, drawing her legs close to her body defensively.

(assuming some assurance that she has nothing to fear)

Moving to place his buttocks against the rim of the counter, Wyatt places his hat on the surface next to him and raises his eyes to meet the face of the woman he’s offered sanctuary to. Running his left hand through his black hair, the captain begins.

“We’ve taken a job that’ll bring us t’ Pegasus, Bellerophon’s moon. You got a chance t’ start anew there. Is this what ya want?”

Chloe cocks her head to one side, looking at the Captain, “Huh. That is something that ain’t asked of me much. What I want.” She says quietly, drawing herself out of the tight position, “In fact, I think you are only the second person who has ever asked me that. You and Petrie. What I want, Captain, is to be with Petrie and live out a life where I can chose what I want and my baby can grow up not beholden to anyone. But I don’t think the verse cares what I want. I don’t think you are here to offer me that chance are you?

“Can’t say that’s a possibility, Miss,” Wyatt drawls. “Way I understand it, he’s the son o’ someone important-like. That’d draw an unfortunate amount o’ attention our way an’ I ain’t keen on attention.”

“You are right, he is the Reverend son and the Reverend certainly thinks he is important. He also thinks he knows what is right and good for others and he should be able to make people do what he wants. Seems to me that what important means. Doing what someone else wants. I’m not important. I’m not special. I can’t remember my momma well but she used to sing this song to me about dust in the wind. All we are is dust in the wind. That’s me. Dust.”

“What d’ ya think’ll happen should yer boyfriend go a-missin’ an’ we’re the only transport that’s burned atmo in the associated window, Miss Chloe?” Shaking his head, Sung continues, “I ain’t riskin’ my crew nor the other passengers we’re takin’ on, t’ be labeled kidnappers by Patience an’ her crew. So, I’m afraid the answer is a no. Does this change yer mind in goin’ t’ Bellerophon?”

Chloe looks up at Wyatt, meeting his eyes firmly with her own gaze that seems so much other than the girl before him. “If you are giving me the choice between saving my baby or staying here, there ain’t no guess – I’ll save my baby. I’ll take my chances with what Ms. Wilson is offering, can’t be worse than here. Like I said, I ain’t important but this baby is important to me. But leaving won’t change how I feel about Petrie and I’ll regret leaving every single day that I live. Have you ever loved someone Captain? I mean really love someone so much so that when you are apart your gut just hurts? “She looks away as tears well up in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a bother and I don’t want you risking yourself or yours for me. If you drop me on Bellerophon, I’ll take it as a kindness and thank you for all you have done.  Even if you just take me somewhere else away from here … cause, I know what Patience would do to me. She’d rip my baby out of my body, kill me and sell the child so she wasn’t out of pocket. It is all credits and cash to her, and love doesn’t hold a candle to money.”

(assuming some response)

“Thank you Captain. If you don’t mind, I’d like to be alone now.” She says quietly and as Wyatt leaves the infirmary, he can hear Chloe crying softly to herself.

Day 2, Whitefall - Eagle-Eye’s farm, 7:00 AM PT

Stephanie was making her way through the Cargo Bay towards the exit of the ship. Looking around she couldn’t help but wonder if Wolf had claymore mines hidden in the walls like Grace did on Destiny.  Probably not, she decide, that was strictly a Gracie sorta thing to do.

“Hey wait up! I’m coming with you doc.”

Stephanie turned around and saw young Asher Talhone coming towards her while putting on his (she assumed) nicest dress jacket. He was dressed well for church except that he was wearing his sidearm at his side. “I’m sorry Asher, but I’m heading for church.”

“Yeah, I know. Thought you could use the company. And I ain’t been for awhile. Never hurts to punch your card with the lord.”

Stephanie gave him a hard look, “You go to church with a gun?”

Ash looked down at his sidearm and back at Stephanie, “We did back home. You never know what’s gonna drop from the sky and reavers don’t care about the Lord and his house rules.”

“Reavers?”

"Yeah. Reavers.”

“Stephanie closed her eyes and took a deep breathe. “Very well. But I’d appreciate it if your gun stayed where it belongs unless absolutely necessary.”

“You have my word ma’am.”

“Please don’t call me Ma’am. Our age difference is far enough without the reminder. Stephanie will do, or Doctor if you must. I’ll even take Doc over Ma’am.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

She glared at him.

“Stephanie. Yes Stephanie.”

She continued on her way with Asher following behind her. Across the field there was a wagon hitched up to some horses and hay bales laid down in the wagon. A large group of people were all dressed up and getting into the wagon.  Both Ash and The doctor noticed that the people on the wagon were mostly carrying sidearms and there were men and women on horses surrounding the wagon with rifles. Asher threw a mischievous look at the Doctor who just ignored him.

Day 2, Whitefall - Necessity, The Church, 8:00 AM PT

The church is filling up by the time you arrive. Seems like this town is much like many others throughout the verse where church going is taken seriously and a family oriented experience. Many families sit together in the same pews they always do, every time they go to church and newcomers are welcome but generally looked upon as outsiders. Ash and the Doctor manage to grab seats in the back, on the outer aisles. The serve starts with singing, a organ player who has seen many years and a choir that looks like it was forced to come by each one of their mommas.

The Reverend Tubbs presides over the readings and the songs and then comes front and centre with a sermon.  He doesn’t use the podium but walks back and forth, up and down the aisle as he preaches.

He starts out with a question of gifts and what does it mean to receive a gift. He draws answers form the audience of faithful, taking the answers and moving towards the idea of God’s gift. What does a gift from god mean to you? Aren’t all god’s gift miracle? What is a miracle? Has anyone seen a miracle? From there he turns to the miracle of birth and how the ability to bear children is a miracle and a gift from good to women-kind. There sermon goes on, drawing a conclusion that people need to accept the lord into their hearts and accept the gifts he brings. The reverend continues down this road, linking the refusal of gifts to the devil and how lust is a beast that lives within everyone.

As Tubbs goes on tirade on the place of women in the home and the role of men to protect, you notice a late arrival into the church, but a spot is held for him. He is a young man, and the familial resemblance to the reverend is clear, this must be Petrie Tubbs. He walks stiffly and sits down very slowly.

After an hour or so, the service ends and Stephanie turns to Asher, “I need to talk to that young man.  You stay here and I will be right back.” And she is off before Asher can protest, threading her way through the crowd as it gets up and files it way towards the exits.

Day 2, Whitefall - Rocinante, 8:00 AM PT

“Mornin’, folks,” Sam almost sing-songs as he steps into Roc’s gathering room, “Hope ya’l’s night was’s good as mine!” Grinning like a fool and absently humming under his breath again, Sam makes a beeline for the galley and, after planting a kiss on Ma’s cheek, helps himself to a large cup of the freshly brewed coffee before taking his usual seat at the table. “I got me some, last night,” he grinned at the faces around the table following a long, satisfied pull from his mug, “How’d ya’ll do?”

(responses to Sam?)

The pilot chuckles, softly and fondly, recalling the hours he spent with Misty. Then, his gaze skinning faces, again, he asks; “So, we gonna talk ‘bout this job, now, er we gonna get chores an’ s#!t outta th’ way first?” Not waiting for an immediate answer, his eyes fix on Wyatt; “Cap, I got some plans an’ back-up plans laid out on m’ console if’n ya wanna take a gander…”

(Meeting minutes? Asher is not there as well as the Doctor)

Chloe looks up at Wyatt, meeting his eyes firmly with her own gaze that seems so much other than the girl before him. “If you are giving me the choice between saving my baby or staying here, there ain’t no guess – I’ll save my baby. I’ll take my chances with what Ms. Wilson is offering, can’t be worse than here. Like I said, I ain’t important but this baby is important to me. But leaving won’t change how I feel about Petrie and I’ll regret leaving every single day that I live. Have you ever loved someone Captain? I mean really love someone so much so that when you are apart your gut just hurts? “She looks away as tears well up in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a bother and I don’t want you risking yourself or yours for me. If you drop me on Bellerophon, I’ll take it as a kindness and thank you for all you have done.  Even if you just take me somewhere else away from here … cause, I know what Patience would do to me. She’d rip my baby out of my body, kill me and sell the child so she wasn’t out of pocket. It is all credits and cash to her, and love doesn’t hold a candle to money.”

“Sounds like the Patience I’ve heard tell of, sure enough.” Pushing away from the counter, the captain retrieves his hat and avoids being drawn into talking about his feelings and his dead family. “I’m sorry ‘bout Petrie, Miss Chloe.”

“Thank you Captain. If you don’t mind, I’d like to be alone now.” She says quietly and as Wyatt leaves the infirmary, he can hear Chloe crying softly to herself.

Hanging a left and strolling up the metal stairs, Sung does his best to put the crying out of his mind. I hate it when they cry. No fair, he tumbles the thoughts around as he passes through into the cargo bay. The air here is always cooler no matter the heat settings. The vastness of the bay is almost like open sky to the ex-rancher but this morning he’s barely paying attention to it.

Passing the first set of stairs, he makes his way over to the second and only pays partial attention to the fact that the mule is gone. Miss Stephanie probably took it to church, he briefly muses and continues up to the main deck. The stairs spit him out in the kitchen area of the galley where Ma is continuing her breakfast prep.

“That went as well as can be expected,” he remarks in dry answer to her questioning gaze. The scarred woman shakes her head and goes back to her mixing. “What?”

Ma doesn’t make any move to reply so Wyatt continues on through, making his way to the forward hallway. Boots clanging on the metal gangway, Captain Sung proceeds to the cockpit. Looks like Sam realized he weren’t wearin’ no pants, he muses as he catches sight of the pilot in his usual chair after ascending the gangway.

Unceremoniously dumping himself into the co-pilot’s chair, Wyatt takes his hat off and begins to spin it in his hands. Peering across the bridge with a tired expression, he says, “You got any concept as to how we get one Petrie, Mr. Reverend’s son, on board ‘fore we burn atmo an’ avoid havin’ Patience hire every bounty hunter this side of Reaver Space to hunt our sorry skins down an’ relieve us of ‘em?”

The conversation at the breakfast table hadn’t been for much, this morning, and, as such, Sam hadn’t spent much more time in the common area than it took to down a cup of coffee. After washing out his cup and planting another peck on Ma’s ruined cheek, the pilot found his way back to the cockpit and settled into his seat to review his flight plans and double-check his math. He was in the midst of refining his calculations for a gravitational slingshot around a small moon when the familiar fall of Wyatt’s boots rang across the cockpit’s decking.

The pilot glanced sideways as the Captain flopped himself into the co-pilot’s seat and, as the man tended to do when he was pondering a weighty matter, plucked off his hat and started turning it round and round in his hands. Dash didn’t say anything right away, though; just kept himself immersed in his calculating until…

“You got any concept as to how we get one Petrie, Mr. Reverend’s son, on board ‘fore we burn atmo,” Wyatt queried wearily from across the bridge, “an’ avoid havin’ Patience hire every bounty hunter this side of Reaver Space to hunt our sorry skins down an’ relieve us of ‘em?”

At this, Sam abandoned his figuring for a moment and, reclining in his seat a bit, scratched at his head and put some thought to this new equation Wyatt had placed before him. “Petrie, huh,” he murmured, “Him bein’ th’ one as knocked up tha’ li’l Chloe girl we got stashed away in th’ infirmary?”

((OOC: Assuming a nod or some other acknowledgement from Wyatt))

“Guay, Cap,” Dash sighed, “in the time we got left ‘fore we’re set to dust off this rock, I dunno. Don’t leave a whole ruttin’ lot o’ time ta conjure up no elaborate schemes, get me?” He chuckled a little, leaned back a might further in his chair and scratched again at the whiskers that bristled out from his jaw. “I conjure we could kill ‘im…”

((OOC: Presuming a shocked or at least questioning look from the Captain, at this&hellip)

Sam grinned at Wyatt’s reaction and threw his hands up in mock-defense; “You asked th’ question, Wyungsung. I’m jus’ spittin’ back th’ answer. Gettin’ my own self kilt worked fer me fer many a year, right?” He shrugged, then, and turning in his seat to more fully face Wyatt, laced his fingers behind his head and pondered further; “O’course killin’ m’self took weeks o’ plannin’ an’ an assist from Tink on th’ back end an’, as I done said, we got jus’ a sniff more’n twelve hours ‘fore we burn atmo… We kill this Petrie kid an’ we gotta do it quick an’ ugly…

I din’t figger we was et ta turn this run inta no honeymoon cruise, Cap,” Dash smirked, “buuuut, ya want I should send a wave ta Neverland an’ see if we can get some fairies ta work some o’ that tian-ling-ling, di-ling-ling? ‘Bout th’ best I c’n come up wit’ given our schedule, get me?”

The pilot glances sideways as the Captain flops himself into the co-pilot’s seat and, as the man tends to do when he is pondering a weighty matter, plucks off his hat and starts turning it round and round in his hands. Dash doesn’t say anything right away, though; just keeps himself immersed in his calculating until…

“You got any concept as to how we get one Petrie, Mr. Reverend’s son, on board ‘fore we burn atmo,” Wyatt queries wearily from across the bridge, “an’ avoid havin’ Patience hire every bounty hunter this side of Reaver Space to hunt our sorry skins down an’ relieve us of ‘em?”

At this, Sam abandons his figuring for a moment and, reclining in his seat a bit, scratches at his head and puts some thought to this new equation Wyatt has placed before him. “Petrie, huh,” he murmurs, “Him bein’ th’ one as knocked up tha’ li’l Chloe girl we got stashed away in th’ infirmary?”

“That’s the one.”

“Guay, Cap,” Dash sighs, “in the time we got left ‘fore we’re set to dust off this rock, I dunno. Don’t leave a whole ruttin’ lot o’ time ta conjure up no elaborate schemes, get me?” He chuckles a little, leans back a might further in his chair and scratches again at the whiskers that bristle out from his jaw. “I conjure we could kill ‘im…”

Wyatt tilts his head ever so slightly to the side like an inquisitive dog and raises his eyebrows at his friend.

Sam grins at Wyatt’s reaction and throws his hands up in mock-defense, “You asked th’ question, Wyungsung. I’m jus’ spittin’ back th’ answer. Gettin’ my own self kilt worked fer me fer many a year, right?” He shrugs, then, and turning in his seat to more fully face Wyatt, laces his fingers behind his head and ponders further; “O’course killin’ m’self took weeks o’ plannin’ an’ an assist from Tink on th’ back end an’, as I done said, we got jus’ a sniff more’n twelve hours ‘fore we burn atmo… We kill this Petrie kid an’ we gotta do it quick an’ ugly…

“I din’t figger we was et ta turn this run inta no honeymoon cruise, Cap,” Dash smirks, “buuuut, ya want I should send a wave ta Neverland an’ see if we can get some fairies ta work some o’ that tian-ling-ling, di-ling-ling? ‘Bout th’ best I c’n come up wit’ given our schedule, get me?”

“Naw,” Wyatt tosses his hat on the console and stares at it with a slight frown on his face. “I ain’t promised nothin’ t’ Chloe ‘cept we ain’t bringing her beau along on this cruise. The more I percolate on the matter, though, the more I think ‘bout… well, the more prone I am t’ consider, ya know?

“Now, this killin’ idea holds more merit than originally struck me, Puhn yo.” Turning back to the wirey pilot, Sung considers the concept for a couple of seconds in silence. “Quick an’ dirty might jus’ be the best path. There’d need t’ be proof he’s dead an’ our best bet would be t’ put the blame where it best helps these poor folk under that pofù of a woman gov’nuh’s thumb.”

This might take more knowledge of the politics of the region and Wyatt isn’t sure he wants to involve anyone outside of his crew. He doesn’t trust easy and though he’s been treated well by a few planetside, he is still loathe to extend himself. Then there’s the theater behind what Sam has proposed. Can Stephanie create a blood pack and with Wolf’s help rig it to explode by remote in a real enough way to be convincing? Then what? Someone has to be witness to the whole performance… someone who can also account for why there’s no body. And why is that? What could possibly cause the body to vanish?

“Maybe yer too right this time, Sam,” the captain shakes his head and then turns his attention to the bridge doorway and what lays beyond. “In order t’ pull this off we’d need t’ make damn sure people think he’s dead and gone while not leavin’ a body fer burying.”

Drawing in a deep breath, Wyatt stands and scoops up his headwear, “Let’s run the concept by the rest o’ the crew at breakfast an’ see if’n any o’ the others ‘ave themselves a better go of conjurin’ up something magical.”

Once their conversation finalizes, Wyatt makes his way back down the stairs from the bridge, down the main hall, and back into the galley where he joins Ma in finishing up the breakfast prep. He works in silence while still pondering the prospect of killing off Petrie Tubbs for the sake of a young pregnant girl’s love of the man and his misplaced guilt over his own wife’s and child’s murders. Noticing that the table is set and food is all but placed, he snatches up the intercom mic and informs the crew that the meal is ready.

“Mornin’, folks,” Sam almost sing-songs as he steps into Roc’s gathering room, “Hope ya’l’s night was’s good as mine!” Grinning like a fool and absently humming under his breath again, Sam makes a beeline for the galley and, after planting a kiss on Ma’s cheek, helps himself to a large cup of the freshly brewed coffee before taking his usual seat at the table. “I got me some, last night,” he grins at the faces around the table following a long, satisfied pull from his mug, “How’d ya’ll do?”

Wyatt takes up his chipped ceramic mug and sips at his own black brew while surveying those present and observing their various reactions. He doesn’t engage. Sam already knows what’s on his mind.

The pilot chuckles, softly and fondly, recalling the hours he spent with Misty. Then, his gaze skinning faces, again, he asks; “So, we gonna talk ‘bout this job, now, er we gonna get chores an’ s#!t outta th’ way first?” Not waiting for an immediate answer, his eyes fix on Wyatt; “Cap, I got some plans an’ back-up plans laid out on m’ console if’n ya wanna take a gander…”

“I ‘ppreciate it, Sam,” Sung acknowledges and shifts in his chair at the head of the table as he gently sets his mug down. “First, I’m playin’ with an idea that could use y’all’s input. I already ran this past the Gentleman Dash, here, so he’s got a leg up on the rest o’ ya as far as thinkin’ on it, but the more minds we put to it, the more likely we’ll come to a good conclusion. So, here it is…

“Young Miss Chloe has revealed who her child’s father is,” Wyatt meets each of those who are present’s eye as he continues. “She’d like fer him t’ join her on this new leg o’ her life an’ be the father to her child, but it ain’t as easy as us jus’ takin’ on another passenger. Her beau is a rather prominent figure on Whitefall. It jus’ so happens that he’s the preacher’s son, Petrie Tubbs.

“From what I gather, Petrie’s father, Reverend Tubbs, is in tight with Patience. So, we go cartin’ off the Reverend’s son and we’re likely drawing attention from one of the Rim’s most prominent warlords makin’ our lives difficult an’ dangerous. ‘Course, this could also help us with that black cloud hangin’ o’er our heads since the gorram Lián méng started bein’ all friendly-like with us. Puts us back on the side o’ things where we make our bread an’ butter… kinda.

“Anyway, Sam suggested we kill the poor kid an’ while I was mildly amused with the idea at first the more I pondered, the more I think his idea has mettle. The problems, as I sees it, is that we got less than half a day t’ make it happen, we gotta convince folks hereabouts that Petrie is, in fact, dead, an’ we gotta do so in a way that leaves no body t’ inspect. And, it’d be a bonus if we could conjure up a way t’ put the blame on someone else that’d help those like Eagle Eye in their politics with Patience.”

Leveling his gaze directly at each of his crew—his family—Wyatt asks, “Ideas?”

Day 2, Whitefall - Necessity, Rocinante, 7:30 AM PT

Fenris having woken and dressed was happy to hear Wyatt calling them all to breakfast as the big mechanics stomach was fully in growl mode. Arriving and taking a cup of coffee, he just caught Sam announcing his “Newest” conquest to all. Sitting down,making no comment about his own indulgence, he watched as Wyatt took up his chipped ceramic mug and sipped at his own black brew.

The pilot chuckles, softly, his gaze scanning faces, then started talking.

“So, we gonna talk ‘bout this job, now, er we gonna get chores an’ s#!t outta th’ way first?” Not waiting for an immediate answer, his eyes fix on Wyatt; “Cap, I got some plans an’ back-up plans laid out on m’ console if’n ya wanna take a gander…”

“I ‘ppreciate it, Sam,” Sung acknowledges and shifts in his chair at the head of the table as he gently sets his mug down. “First, I’m playin’ with an idea that could use y’all’s input. I already ran this past the Gentleman Dash, here, so he’s got a leg up on the rest o’ ya as far as thinkin’ on it, but the more minds we put to it, the more likely we’ll come to a good conclusion. So, here it is…

“Young Miss Chloe has revealed who her child’s father is,” Wyatt meets each of those who are present’s eye as he continues. “She’d like fer him t’ join her on this new leg o’ her life an’ be the father to her child, but it ain’t as easy as us jus’ takin’ on another passenger. Her beau is a rather prominent figure on Whitefall. It jus’ so happens that he’s the preacher’s son, Petrie Tubbs.

“From what I gather, Petrie’s father, Reverend Tubbs, is in tight with Patience. So, we go cartin’ off the Reverend’s son and we’re likely drawing attention from one of the Rim’s most prominent warlords makin’ our lives difficult an’ dangerous. ‘Course, this could also help us with that black cloud hangin’ o’er our heads since the gorram Lián méng started bein’ all friendly-like with us. Puts us back on the side o’ things where we make our bread an’ butter… kinda.

“Anyway, Sam suggested we kill the poor kid an’ while I was mildly amused with the idea at first the more I pondered, the more I think his idea has mettle. The problems, as I sees it, is that we got less than half a day t’ make it happen, we gotta convince folks hereabouts that Petrie is, in fact, dead, an’ we gotta do so in a way that leaves no body t’ inspect. And, it’d be a bonus if we could conjure up a way t’ put the blame on someone else that’d help those like Eagle Eye in their politics with Patience.”

Leveling his gaze directly at each of his crew—his family—Wyatt asks, “Ideas?”

“Cap’n are ya sure the kid wants this too? That’s the first thing what we must be knowing. If he is a go, and if we be needing more time or a diversion I could drag out my fight with Bart tonight, or even lose if that help to get more time to making this kid dead. Though we’d need to be tellin Eagle Eye first or I’m liable to lose a friend here and he some of his standing.”

Thinking a moment, a smile crossed Fenris’s face. “Be even better if we could pin it all on Patience and her people somehow. Again maybe getting Eagle Eye involved in this would be a good thing”.............