I think this belongs to you

With Jacy deemed fit and healthy Vas escorted her back to her room and set her to rest a bit. He excused himself heading to his room so he could stay close to his furry charges while he slept. Since Jacy wasn’t up to protesting much he made his escape.

The poor boy stripped from fresh clothing down to his boxers before crashing unceremoniously in his bunk. The day finally had caught up to him and crashed on what, at the moment, felt like the softest bed in the verse.

Vas was out like a light in a heartbeat. He hardly moved much so by the next afternoon ship time he was sore, stiff and achy. Particularly the face region. Still, Vas wasn’t one to complain much about it. Feeling more rumpled that his shirt the punk stretched out and put on some clothes, time to get some food and get back to the rhythm of his duties.

Yawning Vas shuffled his bruised carcass to the galley to scrap something tasty leftovers their Cook/Engineer stirred up.

Keller had gotten a late start himself, plum wine, rescues, and Reavers were likely the culprits. He was mid pouring himself a cup of coffee from the dented carafe when the Rooster punk walked in. “Morning.” Keller half grunted, adding a shot of Blue Valentine whiskey to his hot beverage. “How are you feeling, son?”

“Like I got dragged down a rocky trail by my feet and punched in the face for good measure.” Vas snarked rummage around for. “Nothing a good night sleep, food and time won’t fix.” He said in an all too positive tone. “Dija eat yet Captian?” He asked figuring if he was going to eat he could make enough for two! It was just reheating after all. Not actual cooking!

The captain held up his mug in response. “Hair of the dog,” he reported, before picking out an actual hair from one of the drogs he’d stopped to pet along the way. “But go ahead and get yourself some grub. Let me know when you’re finished, we have a couple of things to discuss.”

“Oh?” Vas blinked cluelessly as he warmed the leftovers filling the galley with the cuisine of last night meat-centric Spanish food. “I can warm up food an talk. Unless you guna fire me again … I would let’s wait till I’m done eating then.” He said poking his food around to warm evenly.

“No, son, I’m a Captain, I have a crew chief to handle the hirin’ and firin’, so unless you wanna go and fire yourself, let’s put that bit of business behind us, shall we?” He pulled up a chair to the galley table, removing his Stetson to run a hand through his shock of unkempt hair before pulling the hat back down. He took out a handful of folded papers from his jacket pocket and tossed them to the table.

Vas sat down with a now warmed up plate of food, he put the plate on the table to look at the papers. “Oh hey, it’s that bogus contract that heinous c- … “Vas cleared his throat. “... slaver … forced me to sign.” He said flipping through the pages.

“It is. And I couldn’t have said it better myself. One of them pages signs you over to the Veil. Other set of contracts is for your new deckhand. Signed her over to us too.” The captain replied from behind his steaming cup of coffee.

“Soooo are you going to hold on to these or am I going to be organizing a cookout when we touch down one New Kasmir?” Vas asked sticking a forkful of rice into his mouth.

“They’re all yours, son, unless you want us to hold on for safe keeping. I may be a pirate, but I don’t keep any one on this ship against their will.”

“You’re not a pirate!” Riley called from the bridge.

“I could be a pirate!” He hollered back.

“Your definitely not a pirate.” Vas said agreeing with Riley while at the same time stifling a giggle. “I’ve seen pirates. You do not fit the bill. That's a compliment.” Vas said looking over the paper again with cold blue eyes. “Thank you. I’m sure the new deckhand will appreciate it too … when she finally stops jumping around like an over-caffeinated mouse.”

“She’s a mite bit skittish.” The Captain admitted. “But then again, she saw someone’s throat ripped out, was rescued, woke up to a reaver attack, and things after that get fuzzy for me. When you say it outloud, you’re a gorram anomaly, son.”

“Naw … just a bad day or two.” Vas grinned sheepishly. “Maybe it’s the hairdo. Too attention-grabbing?”

“Maybe. But you should keep it. I don’t want to learn a new hand signal to identify you. Just seem a little nonplussed for everything that went on.”

“That doesn’t mean what you think it means!” From the bridge.

“I know what it means! Don’t you have a ship to concentrate on flying?” The Captain rolled his eyes while shaking his head. “Anyway - it’s good to have you back on board, If you need anything, my door is always open-- mostly because it’s a hatch that doesn’t close, but the sentiment is the same. I can arrange for you to have a few days off, get your head on straight. I’ll clear it with the Lieutenant.” He lowered his voice for that part of it. “Make sure you don’t leave those lying around.” He drained his mug, placing it in the sink while he waved a hand at the papers on the table.

“Naw, don’t fret it, I a got a new deckhand to break in two half-pints to run down and 11 drogs trying to escape. You know what they say … no rest for the wicked.” Vas pointed out. “No worries I’ll keep a close eye on the papers … I dare anyone to touch ‘em without losing a finger.”

The Captain was going to add “or a thorax,” but the boy seemed to be fine, no need to poke a bear or create an issue where there was none. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”