Hunter -- Logs

It's been a few days since the crew decided on a course of action. Elgyn has been spending an odd amount of time in the machine shop, but is evasive when Solbiort asks... he's returned to Solbiort's room after once such session, looking thoughtful. Solbiort looks up from where she's sprawled comfortably across the bed, pillows propped behind her as she reviews notes on her console before sleep, "Nihao, di-di. Vhat's up?" Her hair is a scarlet fall across her shoulders, and she looks very comfortable. She's very pleased at how things are turning out, and rather likes having this room for them.

Elgyn absently sits on the locker next to Soli's bed. "Captain, I have been wondering about this plan of yours, making this ship our own. Your notion of making me first mate," he begins.

Solbiort smiles with quiet pleasure at Elgyn, "You like, di-di? Can't think of a better vay to say thank you." She considers, then grins, "Although am open to suggestions if you'd rather something else?"

Elgyn shakes his head, fingers fidgeting like itchy trigger fingers. "It is not that, Captain. I have never thought of myself as a leader, though I am surely up to the challenge." he replies. "I only wonder, then... does this mean you wish that things change? Between us?"

Solbiort smiles again, reaching out to touch his cheek lightly with her fingertips so he looks up at her, "Di-di, job of first mate is to carry out captain's decisions. In a vay you mostly do this already, but in another vay it's only right it should be you. No one else I trust at my back like I do you. To me this is not really a change -- have always felt better knowing you had my back -- but if it is to you, you tell me, ya? I vant you to be comfortable knowing this."

Elgyn looks at Soli with those deep, expressive eyes. "It is just... it is more than carrying out your decisions. My duties have always been about serving you, about caring for and protecting you. But now, I must both serve and stand for the crew, small as it is. My responsibilities would change. And because I now have a greater responsibility, I have to wonder... does this mean you no longer want me at your side, as you sleep? Should I set myself apart from you?" he says softly. For a moment, he seems less like the warrior she's come to count on, and more like the boy that cried into her shoulder, once, many years ago.

Solbiort blinks, suddenly understanding the growing diffidence she's been seeing. Impulsively she leans over and hugs him, "Set yourself apart? Goddess, no! Please don't, pretty -- I'd feel terrible if I thought I'd driven you away so."

Elgyn almost seems to welcome the embrace, though he does not quite hug her back. Remembering the last time she called him 'pretty,' his face suddenly warms. "You have not driven me away, Captain... I just... I did not know your mind. I am relieved to know what I feared was incorrect. I will serve as dutifully as always," he assures her. "I would... miss brushing your hair," he adds as an afterthought.

Solbiort smiles, sitting back a bit so she can see his face and leaving her hands resting on his shoulders, "Then I am glad you asked, di-di. I vant you to know vhat I need -- vould be foolish of me to expect you to... do your duties vithout your knowing vhat I vas thinking." She smiles slowly at his last comment, nodding once, "I also. Are you busy currently, or vould you care to take a moment to do that now?"

Elgyn's face is like the sun coming up. "Gladly, Captain." It takes very little time for the two to get situated, and Elgyn contentedly lays into Solbiort's gorgeous hair quite contentedly. After a few minutes of it, he ventures, "Captain..."

Solbiort makes a quietly contented, somewhat inquiring sound. Elgyn hesitates, though the brush keeps working in soothing rhythm. "Would you mind awfully if I did take one of the rooms as my own? Surely I would still continue to sleep at your bedside, and tend to you in all ways as before... but with the space available, there might be times when I would desire privacy... and surely you might wish the same."

Solbiort mms? -then glances over her shoulder at Elgyn from where her head rests on her arms. Her voice is slightly muffled as she says, "Di-di, you're not my prisoner. Vhat vould make you happy?" She considers a moment, then says with a hint of surprise, "Oh... you are maybe interested in Miss Molly as sexual partner? Did not realize she vas your type."

Elgyn blinks, then barks a laugh of startlement. "Captain, no... that was not my intent..." He tilts his head. "Did I come across that way? I admit, that Molly inspires my curiosity, but I had never considered her so..." He purses his lips. "Actually, it was my thought that perhaps you might want some private time with our new mechanic..." he admits.

Solbiort says, "Vell, you've shown you prefer females, and you've told me you vould never be a horse..." She listens, then laughs softly, "Neh, pre- di-di, he's a cute boy but already married -- to his machines! Finest kind of mechanic." She chuckles comfortably, lazily stretching a bit as she adds, "Vould not t'row you out for that anyvays, di-di... vould go to the other person's room und not disturb you."

"Fair enough, Captain... I know you have always been thoughtful of me in that regard." Elgyn finally says, his mind hung up for a short while on 'never a horse'. "It is just that I thought it might be a luxury that we might take advantage of from time to time... I didn't want you to think, too, it was a sign of my discontent." He runs his fingers through her hair as he talks, fingers trailing along her scalp.

Solbiort murmurs relaxedly, "Di-di, you discontented, you tell me, ya? Ve fix. Mmm... feels nice..."

Elgyn nods. "You know I would, captain," he murmurs. He's silent, then, caressing her in that way, and just watching her smile, hearing her pleased noises. "What... what do you think is my type, captain?"

Solbiort is silent for a moment, considering... finally she says (with a hint of puzzlement), "Not really sure, di-di. Vhat you looking for? Have certainly made sure lots of handsome girls have been around you, through the years... but you never seem to spark, so not sure vhat you really vant."

Elgyn is silent. "I guess I never really thought about it, captain. What I have wanted in life I often found in... service to you. But thinking about it now..." he ventures hesitantly... Solbiort listens silently -- this is something she's wondered (a bit perplexedly) about for years now.

"...what I most want is a true partner. She need not be a warrior -- though such would be ideal. But she would be strong. Like my sister was strong. Like..." he trails off a moment. "We would be two hands holding a blade, working in concert. Her very being would awaken a thirst for life in me, and encourage me to laugh. She would be like a fire spirit, fierce, bright, piercing. And with her I would finally know peace in my heart." There is an embarrassed silence. "Forgive me, Captain... I sound like a bad poet."

Solbiort smiles slowly, listening, "Vhy forgive, di-di? She sounds vondrous -- I can understand your feelings." A little wistfully she murmurs, "I vould be overjoyed to find such a person." She sighs softly, then adds, "I hope you find yours."

Elgyn gathers up some of Solbiort's hair in his fingers, tangled between them, and he stares at it. "I do too," he whispers softly.

Later, the infirmary in the ship's night cycle is a quiet place. Xin's body has been gently placed back in the cryobox, for want of something better. Molly Cooper, for her part, has been in the infirmary since they jumped out of Demeter's space bound for Boros. Elgyn has made it a point to check in on her every now and again, to Nigel's annoyance. This time when he stops by, he sees that she's awake and Nigel is nowhere in sight. "How are you feeling?" he asks solicitously.

Molly is awake, perusing a film book from the ship's library -- Elgyn can see its title as being 'The Case For The Alliance,' by a prominent Indep philosopher-general who hailed from Athens. She looks up as Elgyn asks, and smiles wanly. "Well, Doctor Nigel says that if I manage to avoid getting shot again, I should be all right...."

Elgyn blinks amusedly. "I suppose we could all do with a little less lead in the gut..." he offers, leaning on one of the counters nearby. He's dressed simply: just a pair of pants and his moccasins. "Where were you, when the war ended?" he asks suddenly.

Molly lets out a breath, setting the film book down beside her. "When I heard about the armistice I was a few weeks after turning fifteen, and just getting off of my shift at the munitions plant on Ashtoreth. The shift supervisor had just told us the plants on Leumiel and Stockton had been captured and we needed to take up the slack. A few hours later the CorVue was blaring out that the Indep High Command had unconditionally surrendered and were encouraging all holdouts to lay down arms." She studies Elgyn curiously for a moment before asking, "How about yourself?"

Elgyn hesitates. "I was on recon with my team on Whitefall," he says slowly. "We were spotted and buzzed by an Alliance attack wing... my team was mowed down, or crushed under rocks that were sent rolling by tracer fire. I was... lucky. I was trapped, knocked out, but not killed. I woke up a day later... but it was another 36 hours before I was found and rescued... and I was told then."

Molly says quietly, "I'm sorry." After a moment, "Why did you fight the Alliance? I know why I... why I tried to, after the war, and I know why my father did... but why did you decide to?"

Elgyn shrugs. "A lot of reasons... my people valued battle prowess, and when Shadow was destroyed the clan leaders of my world decided that it was the Independents who were in the right. There had been peace among the clans for a time, and they viewed the war as a good cause to fight for and to send restless warriors off to, for honor and glory." He smiles wryly. "I was no different."

"And afterward? What did you do?"

Elgyn sighed. "Well... I was aimless. My people were beaten, many warriors slain. My mother and father -- warriors both -- were dead. I had a crisis of faith then, until I found a new cause." He looks up. "The captain. She gave my life purpose again."

Molly nods a little. "And what did the cap- no, that seems more like something I should ask her. Well, tried to ask her, anyway." She considers for a moment, then sighs a bit. "Well, I don't envy how you came to your decision. It sounds like you came to it with a lot more pain than I did mine."

Elgyn tilts his head. "Is it really so different? We both suffered loss." His eyebrows tilt. "We both desired to find meaning to our lives. But you... you chose to keep fighting. Just because of your father?"

Molly says quietly, "He left home, he and his sister -- left us on Ashtoreth to let us 'live free' under the flag of Ashtoreth, not the Alliance. If it was that important to him, why wouldn't it be that important to me? That was the reason at first, anyway." She holds up the film book. "Later on, it was to get some sort of closure for my family. That's when I started reading what both the Alliance and the Indeps had to say about it all. The Alliance is going to hammer the 'Verse into a single culture, and... well, that can't be a good thing, can it? I don't know if we can fight it now, though. So I'm just trying to find ways, little ways, to make sure we aren't forgotten, you know?"

Elgyn nods slowly. "I guess I can appreciate that... I suppose I am trying to understand what makes your people tick, through you. Your words do have merit... but the actions of your associates would seem to fly in the face of what was fought for." He looks away. "I'm not even sure how my own people are surviving... Ulundi is not important enough to show up on the radar of the newsnet, I suppose."

Molly scowls, looking away. "They aren't making it easy. We don't have the same purpose anymore, and I know that Gorman and his ilk are going in a direction I don't want us to. They're just brigands now, using the brown coat as an excuse."

Elgyn has an air of relief. "It's good that you see that, Molly... though I do agree that this last act you got caught up in was likely a worthy cause, I urge you to cut loose of them after this is done."

Molly chews her lip. "That's what I've been considering. I don't know, General Wolfgang made a lot of the good side of the Alliance after the war, but... I don't know. Ulundi doesn't make it onto the Cortex much, but...." She shakes her head a little, rubbing her eyes. "Sorry, Elgyn. I guess... I'm a bit fuzzyheaded..."

Elgyn nods and pats Molly's shoulder. "Rest then... but I would like to talk later, if you will," he offers, smiling.

Molly smiles quietly and nods, "I'd like that, sure. Good night, Elgyn." Elgyn leaves with a nod then, and returns to his bedroll quietly, making sure not to disturb Solbiort in her sleep. But sleep does not find him for a while, staring at the ceiling and pondering the road laid out before them.

Goldshore Docks, Asherah City Ashtoreth, moon of Adarra, Mishka Quadrant

The ship is berthed, and Guyon's ground crew is making arrangements for deliveries of supplies and fuel. They bring word that the wharfmaster himself will be by later that day to discuss the current situation.

Solbiort paces slowly through Cargo, checking a flimsy. Without looking up she murmurs to Elgyn, "So this is it, di-di? This is all we need to replace for food, vater, and air?"

Elgyn grunts and nods. "Best I can tell. After all, the ship's bigger than your old one, and we've got more mouths to feed now." He tilts his head. "Why is it you call your craft 'he'? Most everyone else I know seem to refer to ships as female."

Solbiort grins sideways at Elgyn, her eyes dancing, "Considering vhere I come from, you really need to ask, di-di?" She pats one strut and cheerfully adds, "Flighty, vell-meaning, nurturing, but need lots of care -- everyvon knows boys are like that! Poor boy needs a name soon, though, or he'll get a complex!"

Elgyn tilts his head. "Considering we have no spacecraft where I come from, I never understood why everyone referred to ships as female to begin with. I was only noticing the discrepancy."

Solbiort chuckles, stuffing the flimsy into a pocket and draping an arm around Elgyn's shoulders, "Ah, see, that's vhy I like you, di-di -- you notice!"

Elgyn accepts the chummy embrace with good humor, though he still looks confused. "I don't understand."

Nigel has been rambling the ship the whole trip and has not been in the best of moods since hitting port. Now, he emerges from the infirmary, muttering to himself and tapping on a small console. Solbiort grins, lightly and companionably punching Elgyn's shoulder, then glances over at the slight doctor/mechanic, cheerfully greeting him, "Nihao, Nigel. Ve're about to go shopping. Got anything you need?"

Nigel's path is rather meandering, fingers of one flying over the console, brand scar wrinkled by the fact that he is now and again chewing on the inside of his cheek. It seems to be completely by accident as he moves toward an intercept course with the captain and Elgyn. Solbiort politely stops so she doesn't trample him, and puts a hand out with a grin, "Nigel, incoming communication?"

Nigel looks lost for a second, comprehension slowly catching up with hearing, "What? Oh! Shopping, actually... yeah." He moves through several pages on his portable console, "The medbay supplies are almost ruttin' primitive. I need to stock up on immunization packages, painkillers... just about everything." Elgyn touches the shoulder where he was punched, and has this odd look on his face as he gazes at Soli from behind her, his expression bland but his eyes awash with conflicting emotion.

Solbiort nods, glancing at the list Nigel's going through and pulling out her own console, "How much are ve looking at? Can you give estimate?"

Nigel runs his finger along a column of figures, saying, "Well, if we got everything I want, it would be way more than we can spare, but to get us up to something above first-aid kit? This much..." He taps a number which, all things considered, is really fairly modest.

Solbiort nods thoughtfully, comparing it to some financial information on her console, "Mmm... ya, can see how this is necessary. How're you for cash currently? This first run is out of our pockets mostly, I'm afraid, but I can cover some of this for you if you need?"

Nigel snorts, smile tight and a tad sardonic, "Oh, I'm fixed fine for cash. At least for this. Now, if I wanted a dermal mender? That might be a bit out of my pockets' reach."

Solbiort says, "Do ve need one?"

Elgyn shakes his head. "Nope. Nigel just growls sternly at the wound, and it stitches itself back together."

Nigel waves it off with a snort, "No, no. It's mostly for things that are too delicate for stitches or for people too vain for scars." He eyes Elgyn and looks like he wants to say something smart-arsed. But after a moment he just says, "If I can figure out how to do that, I'd be bathin' in plats." Elgyn smirks a little, but the look he gives Nigel really isn't unkind.

Solbiort gives a short bark of laughter at Elgyn's comment, then looks back at Nigel with a grin, "All right then. Can you find these supplies here? Do you need any help vith anything?"

Nigel nods, "Oh, I can find it, most likely. But I don't want to do it on my own. Sometimes the ruttin' imbeciles on these kinds of places see me and think 'easy mark.' It's annoying and takes too much time."

Solbiort grins, "Aha. Busy right now, or vant to come vith, then?"

Nigel smirks back at the man and shakes his head, turning to Solbiort without his expression changing, "No reason to stay. Engine's stable and I've either fixed or killed off all my patients. Now could work."

Solbiort snorts in laughter again, clapping Nigel on the shoulder, "Good enough! Now, then." She turns and heads for the outside hatch, studying her console, "Let's see, add in med supplies..."

Elgyn tsks. "Killed off... such a harsh word. The man's death wasn't your fault, unless you think he died just to spite you..." He ponders. "You know, come to think of it, maybe he did."

Nigel says, "Wouldn't be the first time I suspected a patient of kicking off just to piss me off." Solbiort chuckles, shaking her head as she paces ahead of the other two, her scarlet braid swaying as she does so.

Solbiort takes the small group first to a medical supply store. As they're walking there she glances down curiously at Nigel, "Vhat is your full name, Nigel?"

Nigel looks up, and up, and up just a little bit more at Solbiort, "You're not getting that whole thing out of me without torture. But my last name is Baird." He snorts and says in an exaggeratedly sort of Londinium tone, "Dr. Nigel Baird." A moment later he's grinning wryly.

Elgyn arches a brow, looking around idly. "You've got the sort of name makes me think you should be in a gentleman's club eating scones," he comments dryly.

Solbiort raises an eyebrow, her emerald eyes dancing with amusement, "This torture is something you experience often?"

Nigel laughs at Elgyn, "You heard the whole thing, you'd think that even more, and if my folks had had their way, that's where I'd be. But I didn't turn out to be exactly socially oriented." He eyes Solbiort for a moment, trying to decide if she's flirtin' or tormenting.

Solbiort grins quietly at Nigel's uncertainty, and simply comments, "Family can pull a lot." She adds casually, "Central, ya, you have the accent. Ve spent some time in the Central planets a few years ago."

Nigel blinks, pauses, blinks again and then stops in his tracks. "Wait... I think... are we going to have to worry about body fluids on the flight console, captain?"

Solbiort looks around, orienting herself on the streets as she goes, then looks down at Nigel in surprise, "Vhat? Neh, I didn't kill him -- he vas dead vhen I got there, remember?" She blinks, then laughs! "Oh, that sounded so bad!"

Nigel smirks, hands deep in his pockets, "I wasn't thinking blood, captain. I had more..." he makes a seesawing motion with his hand, "Dubiously originated things."

Elgyn looks blankly between the two of them. Solbiort gives Nigel a puzzled look... then looks up at Elgyn with a 'huh?!' look on her face. At his obvious confusion she looks back at Nigel, "Uh... is this a vay of proposing sex that I'm not familiar vith?"

"If so, it's one I've never heard of, Captain," Elgyn replies.

Solbiort gives Elgyn a faintly relieved look -- she didn't think she was that off on Lingua slang! -then gets a considering look, "Maybe he's asking about building a still?" Elgyn blinks... and then he suddenly bursts out laughing. It's the most exorbitant display of humor he's likely ever shown.

Nigel rolls his eyes as if asking patience from a merciful deity to deal with slow shipmates, "If you're who I think you are, having sex in the cockpit isn't something that's entirely unknown to you."

Solbiort startledly says, "Oh!" She laughs, then pauses and considers, "Er... vhich time? Or are you asking?" She pats him gently on the shoulder, "If so, I'm sorry but I'm going to have to decline. Ve have to be able to vork together, and I don't vant sex to get in the vay of that."

Elgyn takes a moment to catch his breath. "I think... wait... remember Osiris, Captain?"

Solbiort looks up at Elgyn, "Sure! Vas fun. You think he's referring to that von?"

Nigel joins Elgyn in laughing, "Oh... oh, gorram... my mother'd have a fit. She talked about the stunt with the Commander's son like you took a ruttin' piss in her tea while the vicar was visiting..." He's literally got tears streaming down his eyes. This, this is just too perfect.

Elgyn coughs, bringing his amusement under control. "Well, see, we have the proof there..."

Solbiort grins delightedly at Nigel, "Really? Oh, good. Ve had such a good time -- he so vanted to piss off his mother, the Commandant!"

Nigel waves off the suggestion that he was coming on to Solbiort, "Hell no, woman, you'd snap me like a toothpick..." The little man is almost doubled over, still sniggering.

Solbiort's grin gets a faintly relieved hint at Nigel's agreement -- he does seem a bit slight, to her preferences -- and then mischievous as she adds, "The Commandant still von't believe it vasn't me 'corrupting' her darling boy, too, from vhat I've heard!"

Nigel finally starts to get a little control, still grinning like a fiend, "Eh, some people just get offended and stay that way."

Solbiort leans against a wall, enjoying watching two folks she likes having such a good time. She chuckles at Nigel's comment, "Ya, I've noticed that over the years. Eh, their loss, ya? Life's far more fun vith pleasure."

Elgyn shakes his head. "Sadly, Nigel, the truth was pretty exaggerated. It wasn't nearly as exciting as it sounded... or so the Captain told me," he confides. "I played the, er... getaway man in that caper. Had to bail her from the prison."

Solbiort nods, straightening and draping an arm about Elgyn's shoulders, "Ya, couldn't pull it off vithout Elgyn here." She grins, squeezing gently, then adds cheerfully to Nigel, "He keeps me honest!"

Nigel makes a great show of brushing off his hands and straightening his sleeves, "Elgyn, if this is her version of honest, you might want to review your lesson plans."

Solbiort laughs delightedly, gently slaps Nigel's shoulder, and turns (still grinning) to head on down the street, "Hey, he's a great teacher -- don't pull his chain!"

Elgyn rolls his eyes. "You make me sound like a guard wolf, Captain."

Solbiort grins with quiet pleasure at Elgyn, "And vhy not? You're jen duh sh tyen tsai, an absolute genius, at vhat you do, di-di."

Elgyn looks a little startled. "Thank you, Captain," he says softly. So softly if she's turned away, she might not even hear.

Nigel starts wandering along with Soli again, some hint of tension gone just slightly. None of the rumors he'd heard about the exaggerated woman sounded exactly bad, just irreverent, and that he could sympathize with. He catches that little hint of emotion from Elgyn, but it doesn't show on his face. Solbiort smiles at Elgyn, then looks up at the building they've arrived at, "Hokay, Dr. Baird of Londinium, ve go here to find vhat you vant, ya?"

Nigel looks pained at the Dr. Baird bit, "Please. Don't... don't ever, ever ruttin' call me that. Just Nigel, please." His expression is one of exaggerated tragedy.

Elgyn smiles a little. "We'll keep in mind that it bothers you," he quips suddenly.

Nigel snorts, smirking at Elgyn, "Maybe you aren't such a stick in the mud after all."

Solbiort laughs! -then squeezes Nigel's shoulder gently, "You got it, pretty. Nigel it is." She leads the others in, finds someone to help Nigel, and lets him do all the talking. She doesn't do much... except when price is discussed and Nigel starts getting a disgusted look she tends to sort of... loom a bit... or make low, growly, unhappy noises... until the aide gets a nervous look, shifting away from her and changing his mind about the price he had been quoting.

Nigel decides the "pretty" comment is best left uncommented on. There's nothing he could say that wouldn't sound like flirtation or adolescent whinging. During the shopping, he finds himself being grateful for the woman's looming presence and for Elgyn's quiet solidity. With the prices they garner with the presence of the two ex-soldiers, Nigel finds himself muttering that the two of them are better than knowing the manager's dad.

Solbiort grins, rather pleased herself. She's a little startled at just how strongly the aide reacted to her, but she neither lets it show on her face, nor objects in the least to the excellent service and cost. Elgyn is just playing the part he knows best at the moment: the quiet, formidable bodyguard. Solbiort hardly needs his help, but on the other hand, one thing you always have to worry about more planetside is thieves -- petty, and not so. So he keeps his eye out.

Afterwards, outside, Solbiort beams at Nigel, "Vell, that vent vell!" She grins at Elgyn, "Vant to hit a bar after ve purchase our supplies?"

Elgyn rolls his eyes. "Careful, Nigel... she always gets into a bar fight. Might not want to risk the bruises... I'd have to be the one to fix you up." he says in dry amusement.

Nigel looks positively horrified at the thought, "I'm not going near that situation wearing a full atmo-suit." He looks back in the directions of the ship, "Can you get me and this stuff back shipboard first?"

Solbiort laughs, then grins, "Sure, no vorries, Nigel. Ve stop just for- hey!" She gives Elgyn a look of injured innocence, "You make me sound all violent and unpleasant... I assure you, Nigel, it's never my fault!"

Elgyn smiles almost fondly at Solbiort. "You are violent, Captain... but pleasantly violent." he suggests. "You're the most cheerful brawler I've ever seen."

Nigel literally bites his tongue at that, then very carefully he says, "Captain, I would never accuse you of starting a fight."

Solbiort thinks about that one, then grins mischievously, slapping Elgyn's shoulder, "Vell, for that then maybe I be just a teensy bit violent, ya?" She chuckles at Nigel's obviously careful statement, then cheerfully heads off with them to purchase the requisite foodstuffs and have them delivered to the ship -- air and water the port handles automatically, along with fuel. Then they head back to the as-yet-unnamed ship with their gains.

The wharfmaster, Guyon, has gotten his people set to refueling the ship and off-loading the cargo. It's clear that he wants Molly -- and the pirate ship -- here for as short a time as possible.

The ship is in a secluded, walled dock with some overhangs to deter casual orbital surveillance. The bow ramp is down and the early evening air drifts in, mingled with the scent of ozone and dry desert sand and the scents of the docks being lively at night. Guyon, an older man with a scar upon his left cheek and a patch, looks as much a pirate himself, and is at the bottom of the ramp, consulting a board with several flimsies and papers clipped to it.

Solbiort leans against a wall with her arms folded, watching silently. She's already gone over her paperwork... now she's simply interestedly observing, and idly thinking she'd like to spend an evening swapping drinks and stories with Guyon, when he wasn't quite so pressured. But only in an air-conditioned bar. This place is a sauna! she thinks disparagingly.

Captain Solbiort Skialdmeyjar is definitely a tall, burly, and intense woman, standing an assertive 6'6". Snug breeches on her sturdy legs are tucked into tall black boots, which smell pleasingly of years of quality leather care. Riding low on her right hip is the holster for her heavy pistol, while on her left the utilitarian pommel of a large knife protrudes from a rune-covered sheath. Her well-worn leather tunic is brilliantly embroidered on the back with fiercely snarling, winged heraldic beasts tangled in battle, leaving her well-muscled shoulders and arms bare. Each wrist sports a wide, decorated bracelet, while a slender cord about her throat carries several long, colorful beads. Her pale-skinned face is framed in short wings of flame-red hair, and behind her sways a long, thick scarlet braid plaited with a few glittering ornaments. Her deep green eyes study the world with confident amusement.

Nigel is really just sort of... hovering. He's got something mechanical with him rather than one of his puzzles. His fingers are a bit grease-streaked and he's careful to keep his eyes on his hands.

Nigel, at first glance, is your typical stringy grease monkey. The black hair that covers his head is continually mussed and contrasts with the blue of his eyes, which are usually squinted as if he's trying to remember something. Normally, he's dressed in a rather oversized jumpsuit, patched in several places and bearing the permanent oil and grease stains of someone who is constantly up to his elbows in an engine. His hands are fine-boned and constantly moving, fiddling with something or just tapping his fingers. He's even of unremarkable stature, standing perhaps five foot six in his bare feet. The only thing that truly stands out is a rather elaborate brand on his right cheek. The figures are ideograms and read "rude."

With a bit of a grumble, Guyon tucks the clipboard under an arm and half-glowers up the ramp. "Roight. Not gonna be rushin' ye. Not like th' Feds are on their way. But I 'magine the local bureaucrats're gonna be wantin' to be talkin' to ye on th' morrow, to all an' congratulate th' 'pirate hunters' or somesuchsass. Ah'll give ye 'till dawn tae decide. Aft'r thot, Ah'm knowin' nothin' about it all."

Solbiort nods once, silently, then glances around, wondering where Molly is. Elgyn, who's playing it stoic as usual, is internally restless. At the wharfmaster's words he looks at Solbiort thoughtfully. Nigel has seated himself on one of the smaller random crates, a screwdriver in one hand and the machinery he's been fiddling with in the other. Solbiort shifts upright, pacing slowly towards Guyon. "Ve appreciate your patience, Vharfmaster. Ve'll connect vith you before dawn tomorrow."

Molly finally comes out of the infirmary, looking only a little pale but otherwise healthy. She's apparently taking all due care in moving around, as per Nigel's orders. She's carrying the brown duster under her arm. "So, ah..." she says by way of preamble, "I guess... this is it?"

Nigel snorts derisively at the girl's goodbye. His brows draw together over his nose as he squints closer at his work. Elgyn's expression is troubled. "I guess so..." he says uncertainly.

Raj strolls across the cargo bay, "I'm sure we'll bump into each other some time. For all of how big the 'verse is, it's an awfully small place."

Solbiort watches silently.. then sighs at Raj's words, and straightens, shaking her head once, "Looks like it, corporal. Take care." She walks out of the cargo bay.

Molly nods her head. "Thank you, cap... tain." She sighs a little, then nods. "All right. I'll let Guyon know where to send the crates. Thank you, everyone. I... I'm grateful. I don't know where we'll be ending up but I'll see to it that you're welcome if you ever need a place."

Elgyn tilts his head thoughtfully. "What will you do? After all this is done?" he asks of Molly.

Molly blinks to Elgyn. "Oh. Well..." She grimaces wryly. "Make sure that Wintarson and Danviere stay put somewhere comfortable and quiet."

Nigel sighs and shoves the piece of machinery into his pocket and stands up, rubbing his palms ineffectually over the front of his coveralls, "I still think you're being an idiot. You're going to end up dead running around being a ruttin' hero."

Molly looks to Nigel. "Doctor, the last thing I want at this point is to be a hero. If the Alliance and what remains of the Indeps never hear of me, I'll be happy."

Nigel eyes the girl up and down, snorting and almost snarling, "Girlie, you get off this boat with those boxes and I guaran-damn-tee you the ruttin' Alliance is going to find you."

Elgyn looks curiously at Nigel. "What's the alternative? Are you saying you think we should change plans and take her all the way instead?" he queries.

Molly balls her fists, but doesn't -- quite -- rise to the bait. "I don't have much gorram choice in getting off the boat. And if I stay, I 'guaran-damn-tee' you that the Alliance will be after you like... like... gah! They'll be after you! Okay? I don't want to do that to you people, not after you patched me up and let me live when you could have spaced me while I was unconscious."

Raj looks from Nigel, to Elgyn, and then to Molly. "OK. Let's lay this on the table, folks. I think having little miss pirate on board is not the best idea I've heard. Sorry, Molly, but you know that's true. I think we should dump the boxes somewheres her friends can find them, and be done with this." He runs his hand through his hair and continues, "...but it's clear to me I'm the only one that thinks that. Let's just shut the door, and move on. I've worked with worse damn-fool ideas before, and they've come out OK in the end."

Solbiort paces back into the cargo bay, heading for the outer hatch, "Raj, have you had a chance to check on possible folks to sell our cargo to?" Elgyn is still staring at Raj after his abrupt change of heart when Solbiort walks back in.

Molly pauses in bracing against the coming Nigel-storm of verbal abuse, when she blinks at Raj for a few moments. "I... no, well, I mean, I can't blame--" She shuts up as Solbiort comes in. Nigel snickers just a little before he can stop himself, then pulls on his serious face again. The pole-axed look on the girl's face got past his building rant. And it's likely good it did. The way his color had been rising, he was likely on his way to a screaming hissy fit.

When Nigel breaks the silence with his laughter, Elgyn finally looks at Solbiort. "Captain, I think we have something more pressing at hand than the cargo."

Solbiort nods, easily yanking the hatchway shut and locking it, "I'd suggest ve take another day to deal vith selling our cargo here. Raj, vant company to do so?" She smiles at Elgyn, "Neh, it's already settled, di-di -- can't you tell? Even vith my just listening from the ladder-vell I could tell." She glances at the slight girl, adding, "Can you cook, corporal?"

Elgyn blinks and looks a little sheepish. "And here I was expecting this would be my debut as first mate. That's no fair, Captain, robbing me of my dramatic moment." It's not clear if he's joking or serious, though there's a happy glint in his eyes.

Molly is still a little intimidated. "Ah, yes, I can, captain, but, erm, I don't... I mean... I think." She stands there a moment, still looking confused... then as recognition dawns, she murmurs, "...I think I need to sit down."

Raj shrugs at Solbiort's question, "I've made a few calls. Nothing's jumped up, but we've only been here a few hours. We could always take a few tons of whatever passes for organics here, but that'll stink like nobodies business. It'll take a bit for me to feel folks out and get a good lead. Give me a day or two, and I should know more. If folks get out and about, keep an ear open for interesting facts. Don't give the cow away, just let me know and I'll do the digging."

Solbiort nods to Raj, "Good. Let me know vhen you vant me along, ya?" She chuckles quietly at Elgyn, then flips her braid over her shoulder and heads off for the bridge, "Excellent -- you can have my shift, corporal. I'm sick of people vhining about a little carbon in their food! Gotta recalculate our course; I'll be on the bridge if you need me."

Elgyn glances at Nigel. "Looks like you'll have the opportunity to keep pushing her around, Doctor." he suggests.

"Push me around?"

At dawn the next day Guyon comes a-knocking at the hatch of the ex-pirate ship. He blinks, nose twitching. If that's not the most burned blend of protein pastes he's ever smelled... it's not bad, but he only recalls smelling worse during the War... at least that he had to eat. From within he can hear Molly saying hurriedly, "I'll get better, I promise!" It seems like breakfast was somewhat... interesting.

Solbiort glares at the wharfmaster, "Ya, vhat?!" Then she sighs, taking a deep breath and pushing her scarlet bangs back with one hand, "Sorry. Tyen shiao-duh, in the name of all that's sacred, I cook better than this!"

Elgyn's voice calls back, "I thought you said you liked carbon in your food, Captain?" His voice sounds way too cheerful for someone who just ate that breakfast. Nigel is very studiously concentrating on his meal. He's very carefully peeling the carbon off the food and scraping the unburned bits into little piles on his plate.

Solbiort snarls up the stairs, "You I deal vith later, boy!" then glares grumpily at the wharfmaster, "Vould trade you the girl, but my first mate vould be upset. How 'bout the rest of the cargo -- know anywhere ve can sell it? And a drink. Tyen shiao-duh, tell me there's a place to get a decent drink here!"

Upstairs in the Galley, Elgyn grins at Molly. "I suspect before we leave port we should see if we can't get you a cookbook... this first time was good for laughs and ribbing the Captain, but we will need to eat eventually."

Molly swallows, and nods vigorously to Elgyn. She's been making a strong effort to eat what she... cooked. "Just... nerves really, I guess...."

Elgyn pats Molly on the back friendly-like. "I expect recent events have been enough to fray at your nerves, sure. Even I couldn't have expected this turn of events... but I'm not at all unhappy, and neither should you be. My early doubts aside, I'm beginning to think this was fate."

Molly lets out a breath. "If my cooking is your fate, I'm wondering if there was something you did in a past life...."

Nigel mutters under his breath, "Like murder an entire orphanage to wear their hearts as hats...." He finally pushes away the last charred bits of breakfast.

Elgyn has a moment where he seems to be restraining an impulse to laugh. "I'm not referring to your cooking, Molly... but all of this. The ship. You, and all of us."

In Cargo, Guyon stifles a grin; it would be most unseemly. "Ah. She really will get better in time. Most of her youth she spent in the munitions plant 'ere. Imagine she's better at makin' shotshells rath'r'n soy-cakes." He sniffs a bit, frowning. "Come tae think o' it, i' thot cordite?" He shakes his head. "Anyhoo. Ah come callin' tae be askin' if, tae put it del'cate'ly, ye want me lads tae get the cargo -- the hot cargo that Molly mentioned -- off yer ship. As for th' not-so-hot cargo, Ah'll see what Ah can do, dependin' on what it is."

Solbiort suppresses a growl, and mutters, "I'm a sap for tragic puppydog eyes -- ve're keeping her and it. But if you know someone to buy other stuff, contact my cargomaster Raj, ya, please?"

Guyon opens his mouth as if to utter a deadpan comment... then declines at the last moment. "Aye. Lots o' places tae get a drink. An' Ah'll have one o' me lads get wi' yer cargomaster."

Raj strides briskly toward the exit, dressed in work-a-day finery: a dull jacket over a plain shirt, tucked neatly into serviceable slacks over dull brown boots. He stops near Guyon and announces, "Anybody needs me, 'wave my terminal. I'll be out and about, blending in." He makes a quick note on his terminal, then says, "Guyon, I've got a few questions for you. Do you have a moment for me to buy you a drink before lunch?"

Solbiort brightens noticeably. Guyon blinks at Raj, looks up at the sun poking over the horizon, then back at Raj, and then grins widely. "There's a fine, fine lager we make locally thot goes jus' fine wi' an Ashtoreth Plougher's breakfast..."

Solbiort mutters, "Runtse de shang-dee, ching daiwuhtzo [merciful god please take me away]..." then yells up the stairs again, "Hey, laughing boy! I'm heading out for a drink!" She glances at Raj, "You want to be inconspicuous?"

Raj laughs with Guyon, "Well, that sounds like a good place to get a cool drink," and turns to answer Solbiort, "Do you think that's possible? When we can, yes. When we can't, don't try."

Upstairs, Elgyn smirks at Solbiort's call. "As you see fit, Captain! I'll brief the Doctor on what he should expect to treat on your return!"

In Cargo, Solbiort rolls her eyes, "Boys!" then nods to Raj, "Sure, if I'm not vith you." She nods to the wharfmaster, "Later; sheh-sheh," and heads out for a different place to eat.

In the Galley, Nigel says to Elgyn, deadpan, "I refuse to treat hangovers. They're a reminder not to act like so much of a gorram fool next time."

Elgyn chuckles. "Not at all, Doctor... remember the talk we had yesterday? She usually has a side of bar brawl with her drinking." Nigel mmms and rubs his chin thoughtfully.

Solbiort will find a bar that suits her tastes, that also serves a hearty meal. Over the meal she studies her terminal, then orders an anonymous gift to be delivered to the ship for the cook. It's a good beginner's cookbook. Once she's dealt with that, she relaxes and kicks back to do some work on her terminal and make her connections... and once that's done, unless someone wants her, she'll do some serious drinking. No better place to find out what's up than a bar, she cheerfully reminds herself.

As per her instructions, Solbiort checks the Security dead-drop for her on the local Cortex, and is likely not surprised to find instructions awaiting her. What is perhaps a surprise, however, is that they tell her to meet with an operative in-person on the other side of the city. It isn't too hard to make an arrangement to "run an errand" without any of the others going with her, or arousing too much suspicion. What with the new ship, there's enough chores and paperwork and such to do that everyone's being kept relatively busy doing tasks. And of course there is the unspoken assumption that members of the crew are contacting those they made prior arrangements with. Like everyone else, Solbiort has errands to run too, of course, so simply tacks this one onto the end of the others.

It's an industrial park -- on a Central Planet, it really would be a park -- so there are lots of loud, if clean, machinery-laden buildings and plenty of nooks and crannies. Security isn't so gauche, however; it's the midday meal break and there are plenty of people wandering around the park, taking in the fresh air before going back to work. Solbiort spots her contact easily enough: A young man who is wearing clothing typical of a lower manager, with nothing about him to suggest he was anything other than an office-type out for lunch. He leans on the railing of a short bridge over the (only mostly clean) canal which flows through the industrial park. He glances over to Solbiort as she approaches, nodding politely. "Sorry for the unusual situation, Major," he says quietly when she's nearby.

Solbiort, who doesn't wish to look like she's meeting this particular guy, appears to pause and flirt with the cute guy. Her 'interested' body language belies her words, however, as she asks, "What's up?"

The agent is no slouch to body language and catches on fairly quickly, matching her in that sense but with calmly professional words. "Our bosses are, to put it mildly, anxious." He does grin a little genuinely. "Me, I'd just chalk it up to one more exploit undertaken by 'Mad Red,' but there are some other things of interest going on..."

Solbiort grins and fluffs her hair a bit, preening slightly, although her voice is curious, "What're they anxious about? I can't think of anything that drastic I've done, and everything I've done is towards their last set of goals. Have they changed their minds again?"

The agent deadpans, grinning, "'Nothing drastic.' They did warn me about you. They've changed their minds, yes. Things've taken a turn. We looked into as much of the records of what happened on the pirate ship as we could get our hands on, but some of it doesn't make sense. They weren't typical pirates, were they?"

Solbiort sort of leeeans towards the nice young man who's obviously encouraging her, and practically purrs, "Reeeally... what did they say?" Her eyes are dancing with mischief... a new one that doesn't know yet to keep out of arm's reach!

The young man blinks a little, losing a bit of his calm demeanor, and almost unconsciously starts to lean away as she leans closer. "Uh... well. There's something about that kiss you gave the heiress... and the billion parking tickets... and the buzzing of that office tower...."

Solbiort looks innocent, biding her time, "Oh, that. Surely you know about smokescreens?" She waves an airy hand, "Bah -- how pedestrian. Here I thought they might've said something interesting!" She grins, adding, "Neh, not typical pirates. Vhat've you got for me?"

The agent relaxes a little, saying wryly, "I didn't even go into the details of what they told me. Still, business first." He sighs. "That's what we were afraid of. Five weeks ago, there was a prison break around Ariel. Whoever did it used gunships and a pair of sub-frigate-sized ships. They used tactics which were consistent for a number of Independent commerce raiders, modified to be used against an orbital penitentiary. The attackers then fled, and we haven't been able to get a trace on them since, except for a few isolated sightings. The attack on the Shao Kung was atypical of pirate activity for that area, and based on celestial navigation calculations we figured that the attacker would have been involved in some way with the prison break."

Solbiort nods thoughtfully, shifting her weight a bit to lean on the bridge's railing and face the young man, "Got it. So did any of the deceased on the pirate ship ID as the escaped prisoners? They vere certainly violent enough." Almost unnoticeably, she's a little closer to him now.

The agent shakes his head. "No. They all ID'd as being from one or the other of two known Browncoat cells. One is really little more than a club of social discontents and poet-terrorists. The other is altogether nastier, having links to opiate smuggling and piracy, and ties to the Syndicate. There seemed to be an even mix of the two. Regarding prisoners, that's the disturbing thing. Ariel Max-Sec at first gave us bogus idents. It took an order straight from the Shi Kai to get them to tell us the prisoners who escaped were big-name Browncoat leaders: Arvid Wintarson and his two top lieutenants. There was a lot of arguing about what they were doing at Ariel Max-Sec and not at the Greenarbor penal colony like we thought they were."

Solbiort murmurs softly, "Oh, dear. How bad is it?"

The agent shakes his head. "We don't know. Wintarson could be setting up for a new Indep faction even now. We're analyzing every pirate attack as a potential Indep commerce raid. We're a little scared, frankly. He was apparently a military genius and utterly devoted to the Browncoat cause during the war. I can almost understand why they kept him locked up instead of at a penal colony. Major, was there anything unusual about the pirate ship that you could tell? Something, I don't know... different?"

Solbiort blinks slowly at the young man, "Excuse me? Vhat do you mean by 'locked up instead of at a penal colony,' please?"

"Well, at a penal colony he'd be pretty much out in the open. They're not really designed to prevent prison breaks or raids. It's expected that someone spends a few years in a penal colony doing some hard but honest labor suited to their abilities, then is let out. But if you were really intent on getting out, or if someone was really intent on getting you out, there'd not be much to stop them. A prison, though... you lock someone up in a prison if you want to make escape extremely difficult. So, if they were really worried about him rabblerousing, or making an honest escape attempt or there being a breakout attempt, I can understand why they'd lock him up in a penitentiary rather than house him at a penal colony."

Solbiort says, "Ah, I understand." She thinks a moment, then adds, "Do they really expect him to start up the var again, though? I mean... it's been a decade now, ya?"

"I don't know. Maybe they do. It's been ten years, but maybe they think he'd hold a grudge for that long. I mean, he's been in prison for ten years; I don't think that'd make him entirely positively disposed towards the Alliance. Even with difficulties in getting new recruits these days, he might not be able to re-ignite the War, but he sure could cause a lot of trouble."

Solbiort looks curious, "Howso?"

The agent shrugs a little. "Well, he might not be able to launch a planetary invasion, but if even one tenth of the Browncoat cells were inclined towards terrorism, and he coordinated them... that'd be a hell of a lot of bombs going off that we don't need. How much damage could he actually do? I don't know. He was a charismatic leader; he could inspire some people to do some dangerous things."

Solbiort quietly studies the agent, "Vhat if he just vants to retire in peace?" She sighs, looking away, "Ah, vell... it's not like he'd confide in us, I suppose. So, vhat do our friends vant if ve stumble across this... paragon of var-likeness?"

"If he wants to peacefully retire, I'd be fine with that, myself. I don't know if the Shi Kai would really believe him, though. It's not their job to take things at face value. Besides, everything I've read says he was defiant to the end. As for what to do, well... basically tell us if you come across any trace of him." He taps his chin. "You know... no, now that I think about it, he couldn't have been aboard the ship that attacked you, even if he was one of the people who escaped in the cutter. It sounds like it was a lot messier than his style. Not that I'm a tactician or anything. What were your impressions of the pirate attack, Major?"

Solbiort grunts dismissively, "Sloppy, hasty fool organized it." She leans her chin in her hand and ponders. Does she tell, or not? Curiously she asks, "So... if ve meet him, shoot to kill, or vhat?"

The young man nods a little. "From the forensic information that was forwarded to our office, that's our evaluation as well." He rubs his head. "Argh. But backtracking the pirate's course put him in roughly the right place and time for either the attack on Ariel, or to rendezvous with ships from that attack." He looks a little startled at the 'shoot to kill' comment, then chuckles. "No, no shooting. You aren't to break your cover. Right now, you're doing more good as you have been doing, it's not worth breaking your cover to bind Wintarson. Just let us know, and Security will make arrangements with local law enforcement to detain him. Besides, I don't think he'd be really well disposed towards anyone identifying themselves as an Alliance officer. I can only imagine that every day of those ten years he was nursing some kind of hate for the Alliance and everyone wearing its colors. Or not -- I'd like to be pleasantly surprised."

Solbiort hmms softly, casually shifting her weight again, "Vhat's more important, please -- continue to hunt out the pirates, or track this guy down?"

The young man says, "Is that your intent now? To hunt down the pirates who escaped?"

Solbiort grins cheerfully at the cute young man, "Mmmmaybe! If they turn into pirates, it could be a fun challenge. But I need to know if finding Vintarson is most important, or just tracking regular pirates."

The agent taps his chin. "Mmph. The pirates are linked to Wintarson somehow. At least these ones were. And we already have a good chunk of our resources looking for Wintarson. Let me check with our bosses, but for now I'd say stick with looking for the pirates." He grins. "After all, nobody shoots a ship out from under Mad Red and expects to get away with it, yes?"

Solbiort smiles lazily, although it doesn't reach her eyes, "Not more than vonce. All right, I von't vorry about tracking down Vintarson..." her expression gets more genuinely teasing, "-even if I stumble over him, ya?"

The agent laughs a little. "If you stumble onto him, please, at least let us know where to send the marshals!"

Solbiort sighs quietly, deeply conflicted. Her gut instinct is to let the poor man go... but that would fly directly in the face of the order she's just gotten. On the other hand, if she could come up with some reason to keep the two remaining Indeps with her, she could potentially justify any later accusations of not doing her duty by pointing out she was keeping an eye on them. Plus, her ordinary curiosity is raging inside her -- will Wintarson still be defiant, or wish to quietly live out the rest of his life in peace with family and friends?

Solbiort stares out at the horizon and murmurs quietly, "Vhat I vant to know is... how could they hold Vintarson for a decade on Ariel, incognito? Surely somevon vould have recognized him. How did they keep him silent and separate? Vhat did they do to him?"

The agent is quiet for a moment. "I'm... not sure, actually," he says, frowning. "The wardens of Ariel Max-Sec say it's the most secure orbital penitentiary in the Alliance. They supposedly have some high-clearance blocks, which was where Wintarson was being held. The guards chosen for positions like that, they don't come from the rank-and-file of the military or the marshals. They're soldiers who keep secrets, and that's all they do and are trained to do: they keep secrets.

"But I guess that doesn't answer your question, does it? Major, I'll be honest: I don't know. There are covert ops programs that can keep secrets for ten, even twenty or a hundred years in some cases. But why Wintarson rated that kind of security...."

Solbiort glances down at the earnest young man and murmurs, "I find it hard to believe Vintarson shot his vay out of such a concentrated clot of security. Are ve sure Ariel is telling the truth now?" She puzzledly adds, "For that kind of escape, vouldn't there be a ton of dead bodies to explain?"

The agent straightens, sighing. "No. We're not sure. The fact that we had to get the Shi Kai to order them to tell us just who was broken out indicates more than just embarrassment as to the incident." He lifts his shoulders. "The breakout was a minor naval operation -- there were a lot of bodies involved. That being said, the attackers knew which block to hit, so the casualties were apparently limited to the block Wintarson was in."

Solbiort taps her fingers lightly on the bridge railing, musing aloud, "So... vhat does Ariel vish to hide? Vere there... I don't know, atrocities or something?" She pauses and gives a small self-deprecating laugh, "Look at me, rambling on pointlessly. Enough! So, vhat else do you haf for me, eh?" Then she casually shifts again. Now she's standing next to the young man, careful not to loom over him at all.

"That's another thing I don't know myself. It's out of Ariel Max-Sec's purview, they claim. They're washing their hands of the incident, passing the cleanup on to Security and the marshals. Gutless hundan wonders...." He shakes his head. "Nothing else off the top of my head. Do you have anything about your new ship or crew to pass on or ask about?"

Solbiort grins proudly, "Ah, ya, he's a little beauty, he is! Betveen him and this crew, ve'll be a hot item indeed, hunting pirates!" She grins hopefully at the young man, "Can ve get some veaponry for him if ve keep it hidden?"

The agent says dryly, "You know how the space forces feel about 'civilian' ships being armed. Getting the permits would take a while, even with us pushing for them. And if we got involved that might make mince of your cover. But we'll see what we can do. Discretely."

Solbiort grins mischievously, "How about if ve do it ourselves, mm?"

"If you do, don't tell us! We'd like some plausible deniability, after all. Buddha help the pirates, though...."

Solbiort laughs, waving a hand, "Then don't vorry about it -- ve'll figure something out ourselves, ya?" Innocently she adds, "So... that's it for business?"

The agent nods a little absently. "I think so. The office reviewed our records of the people who survived the attack with you. They'll stand you in good stead. The doctor is a wiz and a moral pillar of heaven, and the ex-soldier has a good variety of skills. You and they should have little trouble with whatever the 'Verse throws at you. Short of, you know, taking on all the Syndicate in the quadrant."

Solbiort chuckles, "Not if ve can help it. So, vhat can you tell me about the military guy? He's got very curious markings on himself... like silver traceries under the skin or something. Real familiar vith explosives and security, too. Vhat's his schtick?"

The agent arches a brow. "Silver traceries? I knew he was special forces, but they didn't tell me which unit. Sounds like he was in the Yin Xian, a special forces unit during the War. Ch'i units weren't Security's chosen field during the War, but we heard a bit about most of the more exotic ones. Even then, there's a lot we don't know about the Yin Xian, except that they were very reliable infiltrators. They were some sort of HUMOD unit -- human modification -- it's where they got those markings from."

Solbiort frowns thoughtfully, "Mm. Vhat are they now?"

The young man says, "Disbanded, mostly. There was some political backlash against the use of HUMOD units after the war, and most members of those units were let go after the war to live their own lives."

Solbiort's frown gets more pronounced, "Great. Disaffected and HUMOD -- just vhat I need." She sighs, then gloomily adds, "Anything you can tell me about this von? A dependable sort, a spy, anything?" She considers for a moment. By asking if she can arm the ship she's covered her and the crew's assorted asses for any later discovery of the weaponry aboard... even if this guy turns out to be some sort of spy. Security knows she'll be best at hunting pirates when she can use more than just harsh language and spitballs, after all.

"Utterly dependable. Everything we've been able to find shows that Raj very strongly deserves his reputation for keeping his side of a contract no matter what he does."

Solbiort raises an eyebrow... then sighs softly and relaxes a bit, "Good. That reduces my vorries a bit..." dryly she adds, "-as long as I can vrangle a contract vith him. Hm. Vhat about Kingston? Who's he?"

"Well, I don't have a lot of information personally about Raj, but I can't see his personal dealings being any less reliable. Kingston, though... this is where it gets confusing. Kingston hired Raj through a third party to be his bodyguard as he went through the Fringe, looking for pre-Cortex records. He's a doctor of information archaeology at the Logisium on Osiris. Near as we can tell, he's just a doddering professor who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Maybe the pirates just wanted a hostage of some kind if and when they were found?"

Solbiort blinks at the young man, "You are suggesting the pirates arranged for Kingston to be there as a potential hostage?! That I find hard to believe. If they vere that good, vhy not arrange for no ex-mil as vell?"

The young contact says, "No, I mean, that's why they took him when they escaped the ship."

Solbiort says, "Oh, that. Ya, that's vhat ve figured. So... poor Kingston vas just unlucky? Hm. Has he been found yet? If so, is there any vay to get him to dismiss Raj, so ve can hire him in the clear?"

The young man says, "Dismissing Raj from his contract with Kingston has to be done by whomever Kingston contracted with to provide Raj as his protection. Since finding Kingston falls out of the purview of 'bodyguard,' I imagine that'll happen as it is."

Solbiort grunts once, then mutters, "Sooner the better, ya?" She lazily runs the tassel of her braid over her lips as she considers. She's covered everything she wanted to cover, and gotten all the answers she needs -- except for the critical one: what to do about Wintarson. Curiously she adds, "So how is Nigel a moral pillar of vhatever?"

The agent gives a wry look. "Just try convincing him to not help a patient sometime. He has a reputation running from Osiris to the Fringe in the medical community for taking the Hippocratic oath utterly seriously. That brand on his cheek? He got it from the magistrate of Higgin's Moon when he told off Higgins -- something about the care of one of the sick mud farmers, I think."

Solbiort chuckles, "Gutsy boy. Vondered about that." She grins, "Pity he dislikes it so much... but for all that, he's a damn fine mechanic. I can put up vith a lot for a mechanic that talented."

"He's as talented a doctor as he is a mechanic. Specialized in cybernetics and prosthetics." The agent grimaces and rubs his eyes. "Ai yah. Our bosses were hoping you could given them a lead on Wintarson. But with luck he'll just disappear somewhere and never come out again." The agent looks around, then drops his voice, the banter leaving it. "Look, Major... there's a lot going on about Wintarson that we don't know about. Security is half-blind right now, and we're used to getting the full story from otherwise small organizations like the Ariel Max-Sec pen. And we aren't. I told you what our bosses were told to tell you by the Shi Kai. What my bosses want me to tell you to do, but dutifully won't, is to find answers. Help us figure out what way we need to go in this mess to keep the people of the Alliance safe."

Solbiort nods and is silent for several moments, thinking. Finally she regards the young man with a curious grin, "So vhat do you haf on Elgyn and I?"

He chuckles softly. "Nothing you don't already know," he says cheerfully.

Solbiort grins lazily, "Aaah, I see. But... are you sure? Do you know about this?" Since she's right next to the young man by now, she simply puts her arm around him as she leans her head down a bit... and deliberately pleasurably lick-nibbles his ear.

The agent starts to lean away from Solbiort, opening his mouth to protest -- which turns into a rather odd but not uncomfortable sound. "Ahh... Major?"

Solbiort murmurs softly, "Mmm? Harder?" and cheerfully obliges.

The agent squirms just a little, casting a glance around to see if anyone is watching but not moving away. "Er... Major, I mean... what would Security think?" he asks, more to just get the question out of the way than anything else.

Solbiort breaths softly into his ear (just before licking it), "Surely they'd be impressed vith your dedication, ya?" Unless he stops her, she happily continues enjoying herself and making sure he probably enjoys himself too, actually.

The agent by now pretty much gives up on employing any of the 'evading capture' techniques he's been taught. "I'm not sure 'impressed' is the word they would use..." he comments, making utterly no attempt to resist.

Solbiort shifts slightly so she can put her arms around the young man, and murmurs, "Mmm... then maybe we can just impress each other..." She lowers her head for a nice, long, lazy, passionate kiss, and if the young man doesn't struggle, that's all that's said for a while.

At the same time, Raj decides that it's opportune to get in touch with his own contact. Since she's on Boros, the light-lag delay is only a few seconds, so an audio-visual 'wave is convenient. In between running a few errands to get the ship in proper order, he ducks into a booth and sets up a 'wave to Odessa over the Cortex, using the encryption protocols she had given him. After a few minutes the screen comes up and husky, plain-featured but bright-eyed Odessa appears on the screen, just sitting down. "Ah, tovarisch!" she says cheerfully. "Glad you could get in touch with me. We'd heard about the pirate attack; I was glad to hear you weren't hurt. How are things in your world?"

Raj says, "Complicated, but manageable. I can send you a more complete report on the attack on the Shao Kung, but is there anything in particular you'd like to know about immediately? I'm also interested in any information you have on Doctor Kingston's situation."

Odessa nods. "Da, please, tovarisch. We want to find out what happened in your own words. Unfortunately we do not know anything yet. Which is khujovyj and not making people happy. We've not yet heard any demands, which tells us the Browncoats who took him have some idea of what his specialties are. What condition was the good Doctor in when you last saw him?"

Raj says, "I'm a little surprised you don't have anything on these folks, but they seem to be full of surprises. I'm not convinced they knew anything about Doctor Kingston, but there are a couple of things that seem anomalous. First, when we were first attacked Kingston said, 'Dammit, not again!' which seemed odd, considering I had no prior information of his being in any kind of ship-jacking event. Second, Kingston was almost killed by his injuries during the fight. If they were looking for him, they did a piss poor job.

"Most of the attacking force was killed, and I believe only three remained alive. One of the other passengers was a medical doctor, and left Kingston in fair condition. He had a broken hip, but was stable when the crew escaped in a cutter, taking Kingston with them. One of the other surviving passengers thinks at least one of the crew or passengers of the Shao Kung may have been a confederate of the attackers." He shakes his head and says, "I'm not convinced, but it's possible."

Odessa listens to this with a concerned expression, chewing on the end of her stylus. "Well," she says finally. "That's interesting. Nothing we got from the Logisium indicated Kingston had been in trouble before. So Kingston was alive and probably reasonably healthy condition when the pirates got him." She sighs. "Der'mo. No, we don't have much on those folks. We're trying to weasel some things from our contacts in the Alliance but they're being more hush-hush than usual. I am thinking that someone got most embarrassed by this incident."

She tosses the stylus onto the table in front of her. "Well, nothing to be done for it, tovarisch. You did your best, but pirates... we were not expecting that, no. Else would have had more people around him. Have you any leads as to where he has been taken or about the people who took him?"

Raj says, "Well, a broken hip isn't exactly what I'd call reasonably healthy, but he was stable. Unless they get him to some reasonable medical help, he's in trouble and may not survive." Raj pauses a moment, looking away from the video. He turns back to Odessa, his face carefully composed. "I'm surprised you've not getting anything through your usual contacts. They're usually pretty well connected, both high and low. It's almost like there's a high-level shutdown on this. I can't imagine why something as mundane as a down-on-their-luck Browncoat crew jumping a tramp freighter would get their attention. I'll give you my (sadly limited) thoughts on the Browncoat crew. They didn't seem very prepared for any of this, really. I assume you heard I'm now part owner in their salvaged ship?"

Odessa nods, growling a little, "Da, it is most unusual and is not pleasing. My people paid very good platinum for contacts in Alliance to give us information and they are not getting their moneys' worth in this case. It is making for a tense situation." She grins a little. "But at least is some silver lining. Da, I have been following this since I heard you were in neighborhood. Congratulations! And also, da, I'd very much like to hear what you think about them. The more information the better chance we have of profiling them and finding Kingston.

Raj says, "I'm not sure what I can do from here about Kingston. I'm expecting these Browncoats have outside contacts, but I have very little in the way of leads. I'll put what I've got into my report, but I'm short on resources here. What do you want me to do? I can pursue, or investigate the Browncoats or the Shao Kung."

Odessa smiles mirthlessly. "Well, that's true. Not much to be done for Kingston by you at the moment. Don't worry about that; my bosses are bringing in their own resources now. It's not anything against you -- it's simple escalation. Get us what you can and we'll go on from there." She grins genuinely. "For now, tovarisch, do what you do best. I'll see if I can't send some work your way -- now you're part owner of a ship there should be some interesting things you can do, if you choose. Remember, you're a freelance fixer, not under contract to us. Mmm... I do have a few requests for you, though. Could you keep your ears open in case you hear more of our odd Browncoat pirates, da?"

Raj shakes his head, "Bringing in other folks doesn't bother me. I'm sure there are other individuals with more appropriate skills, in better positions for this type of pursuit." He grins, "Just so long as the money changes hands, I'm happy. As to the Browncoat crew, I'm already making some inquiries, and if I discover anything of interest you'll be the first person I'll call. I don't really like getting shot at, or having my ship blow out from under me. I hope to have a private conversation with them at some point."

He adds, "I'm seriously considering seeing where this whole 'salvage ship' thing goes. The individuals involved seem determined to do... something... with the ship and I'd like to make sure they're not going to drive my part of the ship into a star, or a cliff, or Reavers before I move on. There are some other complications, and I want to see how they play out. If we need any, hm, non-standard cargo or equipment, may I call upon you, Odessa?"

Odessa grins impishly. "You may call upon me even if you need some good food, tovarisch. Brother Oleg has been wanting to impose his new stew on you for some time now. Da, you can call on me. You sound like you have some concerns about them? Your new crewmates, that is."

Raj groans, "Why must he fiddle with a good thing? What is it now?" He drops into a growly, unhappy voice, "Not enuf blargnetz. Not loike old contry." He smiles, and continues, "I'll give you a call next time I'm closer than a 'wave, if only to save you from that!" Then he shrugs, "They're new people. They could be anyone, you know? I'm not one to let an opportunity like part owner of a ship to simply pass by but, well, think of this as an extended interview. For all I know one of them could be planetary governor someday, or is the cousin of some highly placed corporate type, or," he leans closer to the screen, "perhaps has friends in low places. We both know how useful those are!"

Stretching, he adds, "As always, it's been lovely speaking with you. I'll give my report to a runner to drop by your office as soon as it's complete. I'll check in when we hit the next civilized port-of-call, and I'll let you know how this works out. I wouldn't be surprised if we were out-of-touch for a bit, though. Do let me know if you get any intel on Kingston, too. I'd hate to see him simply disappear. He was a nice enough fellow. Till next time, then?"

Odessa grins and nods, "Da, friends in high and low places. Your new captain is minor celebrity here on Boros, actually. Saved the son of a big-name CEO few years ago." She snerks and adds, "And other places, too. Will send you file of 'Mad Red's' exploits. Am thinking you might like some of them." She laughs fully. "Oh, da, you do wonderful impersonation of Oleg! I don't think he ever gets tired of it, either. I've not tried his new stew yet; he refuses to tell me what he's added. So if ever on Boros, I'll be more than pleased to be saved from Oleg's stew! -or at least share in the doom. Be well, tovarisch."

Raj raises an eyebrow, "'Mad Red'? Oh, this sounds good. Thank you for the heads up. You too, Odessa. Don't be too bad while I'm gone." He severs the connection, pauses to make a few notes on his terminal, and makes his way back towards the ship.

Around noontime: Raj has met with some potential buyers, some shady and some not so shady. The shady ones didn't find anything of interest (and Raj wasn't sure he wanted to know what they wanted; besides, Guyon hadn't been too keen on introducing Raj to them). The legit merchants, however, plucked quite readily at the remaining cargo, and offered a few things for the unnamed pirate ship to carry -- many were quite eager to have their cargo shipped by an apparently competent group.
Solbiort settled into the breakfast and the bar, having only to glare down one man. Nigel, Elgyn, and Molly are doing some maintenance on the ship. With the sun high in the sky, there comes to the forward ramp (as Elgyn can see from the bridge) a man and a woman, both in the clothing of the gentry -- in other words, the bureaucrats Guyon had mentioned.

Elgyn eyes the approaching folks with an eye of trepidation. He goes over and hits the intercom. "Folks, we've got officials on route. Molly, stay scarce... not care to explain you if we don't have to. Doctor... meet me at the cargo hatch." Nigel mutters and rubs his hands clean of grease -- granted, he does it on the front of his coveralls. Then he stumps up to the cargo area to meet the first mate. His hands may be clean, but his face looks like he's been nuzzling mud puddles.

Over the intercom comes an almost audible pause, then a muttered, "Ta me da..." from Molly.

Elgyn triggers his personal communicator, then. "Captain, are you busy?" he queries.

Solbiort's voice sounds... different than when she's just drunk, "MmmmElgyn, ya! Nihao, cutie, vhatcha got for me?"

Elgyn facepalms. "Captain, we've got some Alliance folk on route to give us a hard time about the ship... please dunk your head in a water trough and come talk to them?" he groans, gritting his teeth.

Solbiort sighs wistfully, glancing at the cute young man she's with, "Jen dao mei! All right, on my vay..." She tucks her terminal away, cheerfully apologizes to her contact for having to kiss and run -- then does so.

Elgyn shakes his head and cuts communication, heading for the ladder well. "I sure hope the Doctor looks presentable, at least..." Nigel is the first to the cargo bay, spotting the two bureaucrats there, who focus on him immediately. Only the man looks more than a little concerned at the sight approaching them. Elgyn strides into the cargo bay, takes one look at Nigel, and groans. "We're doomed."

The woman clears her throat a bit, which makes the man straighten and regain his composure. "Good morning," she says in banal bureaucratese to Nigel. "We're with the Bureau of Shipping. Is Captain Skialdmeyjar aboard?" Amazingly, she pronounces it correctly and without any verbal stumbling.

Elgyn hesitates, and then decides to let Nigel do the talking... the Doctor's likely better at this than he would ever be. He folds his arms over his chest and just looks intimidating. It certainly can't hurt. Nigel offers his hand to each of them in turn, answering in a surprisingly pleasant tone of voice, "Nice to meet you both. I believe the Captain is out making some final arrangements before we take off again."

"She's actually on route. Wanted to be notified when these folks arrived." Elgyn grunts. "Said to make 'em comfortable in the meantime."

The woman nods, "Very well. We have some documents that are needed to be filled out." She glances over at Elgyn as he speaks.

Elgyn looks at Nigel. "Doc, you're the smart one... why don't you give them a look."

The man coughs, "Er... 'doctor'?" he blurts.

Nigel nods and does his best to smile without crinkling his cheeks too much. "I'd be happy to give them a look. I think there might even be some tea in the..." he pauses as the man coughs, arching a brow at him, "Yes. I'm the ship's doctor." He can't be sure, but at his declaration that he's the doctor he can almost feel both bureaucrats' gazes dropping, tic by tic, down to the grease-stained coveralls.

Elgyn nods sagely. "He's so good at his job, patients are practically leaping off the bed after he's patched them up," he confides. He scratches his chin, "Although that could be because they want to get away from him..."

Nigel does his best to keep from glowering at the bureaucrats, but that doesn't keep him shooting Elgyn a look to melt steel, "I'm also the engineer."

Elgyn uses every bit of strength in his body to keep from smiling. Both bureaucrats go "Ooooh!" almost in unison. Fortunately, Solbiort comes up at about this time, meeting Raj who has a mule in tow with the first container of cargo to be loaded for shipment to Skamandrios.

Solbiort slaps Raj cheerfully on the shoulder, congratulating him on his fast work. She pats the mule amiably on the hood, then heads on into the ship, taking in the situation at a glance, "Ah, excellent, ve can now settle the papervork! Elgyn, could you gif Raj a hand vith cargo, please? Doctor, vith me please to introduce these folks, and ve vill haf some tea, ya?" She politely escorts the woman to the starboard Officer's Lounge.

Elgyn nods and claps the male bureaucrat on the shoulder. "Try not to get hurt. He might not change clothes before he operates on you," he confides before going over to Raj. Solbiort raises a dubious eyebrow, but doesn't say anything. Yet.

Buddha only knows where Molly is hiding herself. But the meeting with the bureaucrats draaags for far too long, as Elgyn and Raj load on the cargo containers. Two hours in, a dapper young man jobs up to the ramp, "Sorry if I'm late," he says to Raj. "Are the BUSHIPS people aboard already?"

Elgyn gives Raj this blank look. "BUSHIPS?" he queries.

Raj turns to the young man, "I don't believe we've met. Can I ask who's inquiring?"

The man nods, "Sorry about that," he says to Elgyn. "Bureau of Ships. I'm Martin Hall, with the Office of Calendar and Hours Coordination, to check the navigational instruments. They need to be certified to let the ship fly, you know.

Elgyn blinks. "Oh... very well. Raj, you know about that sort of thing... could you show this gentleman what he wants?"

Raj says, "Oh! Certainly, then. Let me take you to them," and leads him into the ship. "If you'll come with?" Over his shoulder he says to Elgyn with a grin, "Back in a tic. No more visitors till I get back, OK?"

Elgyn looks dubiously at the hatch. "Do my best..." He scratches his chin. "I wonder if I could get away with 'accidentally' breaking the door and putting an 'out of order' sign on it..." he muses.

The man nods to Elgyn cheerfully and follows Raj up to the main deck. "So you guys turned the tables on those pirates?" he asks Raj. "That must have been far too exciting for words."

Raj says, "I'm not sure exciting is the word. Terrifying, followed by explosions. They just weren't as smart as they thought they were," and shrugs. "After you, Mr. Hall."

Hall nods politely to Raj, and heads into the officers' lounge. The two bureaucrats look up and Hall simply says, "Hi, Martin Hall, OCHC." After a brief exchange of credentials -- they seem to be in order to Solbiort -- the bureaucrats accept Mr. Hall as legitimate. Solbiort nods politely to him also, and has him settle with the others. If they're going to keep sending her bureaucrats, and keep her bored for hours, then they can all suffer along with her, she decides. She keeps chatting politely, sipping tea... but makes sure they all stay there with her. She is rather pleased to hear the woman not mangle her name, however. Finally, someone who can speak normally!

After a moment Raj catches Solbiort's eye during one of the many lulls in the conversation. A discreet nod of her head, and he's back to work in the cargo bay. "Elgyn, what's left? We pack this all in like saltfish yet?"

Elgyn checks the inventory listing. "I think we're more or less squared away..." he grunts. He's quiet for a second, then adds, "Thank you."

Raj laughs, "What for? I left you to do most of the tail end. Looks fine to me, too. Let's wait to get cleaned up though, till our guests have left."

Elgyn shakes his head. "I'm not talking about the cargo. I'm talking about yesterday. About changing your mind. She's a good girl. I wanted to do right by her, but..."

Raj grins, "A smart man is ready to leave his luggage on the dock when necessary. Sometimes it's better to haul it along. I guess this is one of those times." He stretches and continues, moving amongst the cargo, checking straps. "We make a choice and move on."

Elgyn nods. "Anyway... thank you," he grunts, feeling uncomfortable with reaching out to the enigmatic Raj.

Back in the Officer's Lounge, Nigel is sitting off in a corner of the room. He's watching the interaction of the captain and the bureaucrats. Very shortly, Hall pipes up. "With your permission, Captain, I'd like to conduct the inspection of the navigational instruments and the ship's chronometer."

Solbiort says, "Certainly! As soon as ve're done here, ve can all go check them."

That does seem to give Martin -- and the bureaucrats from BUSHIPS both, who look up curiously at that statement from Solbiort -- pause, but aside from an arched brow he says nothing and does not complain. Solbiort continues to amiably chat with the bureaucrats, not hurrying them. She'd dearly love to get the paperwork done and toss them all out... but if they're going to play the waiting game she can too. Nigel sits and does his level best not to scowl too awfully much. For Nigel, it's an admirable job. He even keeps his hands mostly still. Granted, it's by the expedient of sticking them into his pockets and keeping them there.

Solbiort grins internally as she notices the bureaucrats speeding things up a bit once they hear her pronouncement. However, she remains perfectly courteous, offering more tea if they'd like? After a little more trudging through paperwork, the bureaucrats finish their work and the woman says, "We're done here, Captain. All that remains is inspecting the nav gear."

Solbiort says, "Vill you all vish to inspect the navigation gear?"

The bureaucrats shake their heads. "No, thank you, captain. That's Mr. Hall's department."

Solbiort seems almost disappointed, but just courteously asks Nigel to show Mr. Hall to the bridge while she shows the other two out. She'll be there in just a moment. Nigel shrugs and escorts the man to the bridge, having absolutely no intention of leaving him alone, knowing what kinds of things are in the ship's computers. Hall is professional, and asks Nigel politely to point him to the navigation terminal. He isn't terribly chatty at this point. Nigel tries his best to give the impression of an overly protective engineer who doesn't like anyone else touching his systems or his ship. Luckily, he doesn't seem to be doing anything he shouldn't.

Solbiort chattily escorts the other two out, waves a cheerful goodbye, closes the hatch -- then hotfoots it back to the bridge! As she heads by Raj and Elgyn she calls, "Raj, can you vatch for unauthorized computer access from the bridge or anything, to help us vatch this guy?"

Solbiort enters just as Hall is, with practiced ease, doing a test bearing with the autosextant on two of the visible suns and two of the other moons orbiting Adarra. She strides onto the bridge, nods once to Nigel, and leans against a wall. She's not quite looming... just watching intently.

Hall compares the bearing he got with what is in his almanac, following it up with another pair of bearing-lines, and then finishes off by ensuring the ship's chronometer is, if not dead-on Standard Time, has the proper error noted. Downstairs, Raj watches, keeping an eye on the various inscrutable lists and status indicators of the ship's security system during the inspection, but nothing seems to be amiss.

Hall stands, folding up his celestial almanac and smiling. "Well, Captain, your nav gear checks out. Sorry for the intrusion, but we don't want ships making egregious course errors when pulse-jumping, after all. A thirty-thousand-kilometer-per-hour meteor is the last thing a world needs."

Solbiort smiles, well pleased, "Sheh-sheh, Mr. Hall." Nigel doesn't say a thing, just leaning against the consoles as Hall starts to leave. Solbiort escorts Hall out too... and once the last bureaucrat is out and the door closed, she hits the intercom and calls, "All clear." She heads for the bridge, looking for Nigel, who is headed down from the bridge, now quite visibly scowling.

Solbiort pauses, resting a hand on Nigel's shoulder, "Sheh-sheh, Nigel, for helping out with the bureaucrats." She studies his face for a moment, then just stands aside and grins faintly.

Nigel looks up at Solbiort, takes a deep breath and blows it out, ruffling hair off his forehead, "Please let that be the last time I have to do that..."

Solbiort smiles, "If you vish, surely, Nigel. I just know vhat vould have happened if it had been only Elgyn."

From somewhere in the ship there is the clanging of a hatch as it is pushed open and hits the deck. A little bit later a completely sodden Molly squishes into the cargo deck. "Hid in the 'vaporator," she says, sounding a bit the worse for wear.

Elgyn blinks, and then barks a laugh. "Molly, I didn't mean..." He looks innocent as he goes over to tend to Molly. "They would have remained in once piece, Captain," he chides.

Solbiort says, "Ya, but vould ve have?"

Raj grins, "I was wondering if anybody would notice she'd been scarce," and nods to Molly, "Good decision, that."

Molly coughs a little wetly. "Nrgh. It's all right. I'm just glad they didn't want a test of the potable water system."

Nigel glares over at Molly, "Girlie, you do that again, and I'll whack you one." He looks around the cargo bay, "I'm going to have to fix something up if we're going to have her hiding."

Elgyn smiles ruefully at the captain's reply. "Fair question." He tsks. "Molly, I just wanted you to stay in an unobvious place, not inside the ship's inner workings... it's not as if we were being scoured by a crack team of Feds..."

Raj shakes his head, "No, I think she did the right thing. If we didn't know where she was we'd send no tells if folks was looking," and looks around, "We didn't see her hide, and we knew she was here. Let's count that as a win, and get her some better papers so she doesn't have to go for a swim every port we get rousted."

Solbiort says, "Vhy not put her vith the crates? Or in another hidey-hole. Nigel said there vere several places available." She murmurs in an aside to Nigel, "Papervork isn't my favorite thing either..." she sighs, then ruefully adds, "-especially vhen it interrupts something fun."

Elgyn shakes his head. "We should get you out of those wet clothes before you catch cold... I hope you brought a change of clothing with you before you boarded this ship..." He looks at the others. "Hey, now that we're official, maybe we should settle on a name?"

Molly winces a bit. "Wasn't time to get into the cargo hold, not when Elgyn said that they were coming aboard. I was in the engine room, grabbed the closest hatch I could and hid."

Solbiort nods to Raj, "Ya, she did good." She puts her hands on her hips and glares thoughtfully down at Molly, "Go change, get dry... and learn to cook before you touch that galley again!"

Molly blinks, "I'll go get, ah, dried off." She squishes up the ladder-well.

Solbiort nods to the others, "Ya, ship needs a name before ve hurt his feelings. Vhat you vant to call him?"

Nigel shrugs, "As long as we don't name it Icarus, I don't care." He stumps off toward the engine room and his interrupted fiddling.

[Previous Log] [Index] [Next Log]

Last modified: 2006-Mar-04 21:02:19

All material on this site is
Copyright © 2006-2024 Reality Fault
unless specifically indicated on each document.
All Rights Reserved.
Administrated by Reality Fault Webmaster