recursal/Fanatic-Fandom huggingface dataset:
Day 1: Evening---Easy on the eyes

Without blinking, Henry dropped his pants. He never was the shy type and being that on a scale of 1 to 10, his lean and chiseled frame was near a nine by most ladies standards, and his Yīnjīng was larger than average -especially for not being tall - he offered to impress.

"Thigh or cheek? With how them thugs had my arms twisted, I think this would be better," he said.
Altar-cations

The galley sounded like a good idea, but--was that a brawl in the hallway?

Lyen stopped short, watching the man strong-arming the other passenger against the wall. Suddenly this steel box felt shrunken and airless. She watched eyes wide as he held the man from behind, said something into his ear. She wanted to shout, to stop them, but she couldn't find her voice.

Her tongue tasted like pennies. She couldn't see anyone else around.

"Hey-" was all she could half-yell down the corridor, not that calling attention to herself was the brightest idea, but she had to do something. Where was Riley? Captain Keller?

What kind of ship did she find herself on.
Check up

Riley brushed passed Dimitri, leaving him with the manifest.
"Well fuck am I supposed to find boss man?" He grunted to himself.

All time he'd been on, no sign of this "captain". Not even clue where he is.
"Come on dimi, is just manifest." He sighed to himself "It will make good time while checking on kvass. Good shit for toys."
He made his way down to the engine room, faintly hearing the scuffle and Riley's voice ringing out as he hummed to himself.
"Da dadada da da da duhda.."
He turned on heel to the engine room-
"Facking spotless... Damn."
He set the manifest on a free space and went to check on the jar that he stashed next to the engines.

The Amber liquid was foamy, a good sign that the yeast had taken hold, the raisins we're half plump. The slav licked his lips.

"Only but day between me and you, deli-ci-os debil"
He made a point of stashing the jar out of the way before turning away, and grabbing the manifest and heading out. Climbing steps, he made way to sleeping quarters, in search of captain. He creeped as best as he could through hallway, peering into door ways, searching.
"Captain it is serious issue. We have thief. And thief has high grade to highly unstable custom weapons of mines. Halloo? Where in hell are you?! I need my facking guns." He said in a normal tone, becoming slightly agitated
Bound up

Vas was in and out for the entire trip back the Veil and missed out on Jacy’s antics. The boy had been dumped in the corner and was still bound up. He blinked still glassy-eyed, hungry, cold and tired but at least he could BREATH. He took stock of his surroundings looking around seeing one mess-up girl and a putout blonde in a chair. Alleo. That was her name. The next thing he noticed was his hands and feet where bound.

“Uhhhh …” Vas said shivering. “…what happened?” He asked the only other person in their eyes semi-open in the room.
Bumpy Ride

The mule was uncomfortable and noisy. The drogs hated it and the two kids had their work cut out just keeping them distracted enough to stop the howling and yapping. Gill and Haddie had no winter clothes to speak of so they were wearing pretty much everything they owned to give them layers of warmth. It kept the worst out but they were still shivering bu the time the mule really got moving.

The snow was everywhere. A world of white. Gill could smell the crisp freshness of it and thought back to happier days before their parents had died. Snow had been a thing of fun and wonder back then. Snow ball fights, igloos and snowmen. A constant adventure. Later the cold was a thing to be survived. A thing that could kill. He was unsure how he felt about it now...

Buildings were becoming more frequent now as they moved closer to the heart of the settlement and Gill carefully removed the pad from his inner pocket. Haddie spotted him and he motioned for her to ignore him as he casually threw the item over the side. It landed in deep snow and disappeared beneath the surface. He took a deep breath as he relaxed back into the mule checking carefully that nobody but his sister had witnessed him getting rid of the pad.
All hell

Dimitri punched the code and opened the box to an extremely shoddy looking officer, covered in his own fluids and byproducts and a little bit of cake as well.

Dimitri looked down and looked to the captain
"I take problem to the airlock? He was trying to bust me on Persephone so I took care of it. I can easily fix, just show me to closest airlock."
Day 1 Evening - What are the chances?

“Hey, there’s the wayward member of our posse.” Vas jibbed at the scrawny kid. “Well I have an agenda for sure, Jacy here just brought up an idea to help me along. You don’t by chance have access to the Cortex do you?” He asked with a tilt of his head. After all, what were the chances all three couldn’t, shouldn’t or wouldn’t access the cortex? That would be silly? Right? Even if it didn’t pan out Vas had already been prepared to have to do it the old fashion way.
Another Fine Mess

Gill looked up towards the woman in surprise, the thought that she was "pretty " popped into his mind and he instantly blushed.

"I er... I'm Gill and that there is my sister Haddie." the young flame haired girl scurried past Lyen to stand next to Gill clutching his arm. Gill glanced back toward Vas and the other passenger who seemed to be done with their argument now. He wondered what the man had done to get Vas so angry, but then it did not seem to take much. A character flaw that Gill could empathise with, though Vas seemed rather more effective in its application.

He looked up toward Lyen and offered an awkward smile before prying his sister off his arm and moving to retrieve his mop and bucket. He noticed Haddie grinning at him and his blush turned a deeper shade of red and then to make matters worse as he picked up the bucket he saw Vas standing there looking over.

It was all too much, he fumbled in picking up the mop, tripped over the handle and toppling forward launched the entire bucket of dirty water over the unsuspecting Lyen.
A new landing

*Ok, full inventory of this project complete, parts list completed, now to see what we can get so I can get this thing working again. I hope Dimitri has his parts list so we

can get this thing repaired and fully operational.*

As he was disembarking the shuttle, Riley's landing announcement came over the PA.*Interesting, I thought the Captain enjoyed making that announcement.* Either way, Thomas made his way to the engine room and monitored their landing.

Different, very different. Only been a couple of landings but, each pilot has a way of doing things, a type of signature, and this was different from Riley's normal routine. It wasn't autopilot. Autopilot keeps sending updates to the Engines computer for verification of power. Riley, just lands the ship but, this time, the adjustments were textbook. Too textbook, almost like someone was reading how to control the ship out of a book.

After the ship had landed, he went through shutdown procedures and began venting the cooling system. He entered both engines into maintenance turn down and began a full diagnostic check. He pushed the engines to get here in a hurry and now he wanted to make sure all was well. After all was set, he made his way to the cargo bay for assignments.

When he entered the cargo bay he saw Riley on the catwalk looking over the others. the Twit was there, along with a female he wasn't familiar with but, had seen on the ship. Vas and Gill were there however, Haddie wasn't. She must still be ill along with the Doc who looked like he was run over by a Reaver horde. Apparently he was attacked by the Law for being in existence. *So, lets see what gives this time around.

Like if the Captain is going to assign ranks like he had mentioned so I can see who I need to take orders from now.*
An offer you shouldn't refuse

Riley looked at the hand extended to her, looked to the person extending it and let out a sigh, shaking his hand.

"Well, Vas Jat, last I seen her she was doing dishes in the kitchen. Make sure she doesn't boost anything. I think she has sticky fingers. I need to get back up to the deck, someone's gotta land this ship."

According to her calculations, they were just about to enter Persephone's orbit so Riley high tailed it back up to the bridge, prepping the ship to land. She called in for clearance, and noted the time. It was almost time for the Captain to make his ridiculous...

"Ladies and gentlemen, I know it's late but we're about to make our descent to Persephone, any of you who are de-boarding, I ask that you gather your belongings, as if they are left on my ship, they become my belongings. I know we picked up quite a few unexpected passengers along the way, I'll take this opportunity to let you know we do have open crew positions aboard the Veil, and as some of you owe fare, you are welcome to speak to Thorne about getting future wages garnished. " The Captain let the mic go, had yet one more whiskey, then headed to the cargo bay.

The bay was immaculate, the best shape he'd ever seen it in, and even the old mule was cleaned up and fixed up well. The culprit it seemed was a slip of a man, maybe 15, 16 tops, who shivered while he worked. Persephone could be a pretty rough place for orphans. Maybe it was the whiskey, or maybe he remembered working hard on the ranch himself, but Persephone weren't no safe place for children. The captain put his hand on Gill's shoulder.

"Listen, kid. I was going over some numbers, and it seems you and your little friend, well, you ain't paid off what you owe yet. So as sorry as I am to say it, you're both going to have to stay on board this ship rather than leave at Persephone. I got a lot of jobs need done on the veil. Don't you worry, I ain't aiming to keep all your wages, just take a little here and there 'til your both paid up. I know, I know you must be disappointed, but this is just the way it is. Why don't you grab your friend and..."

"Sister."Gill corrected, through chattering teeth. "She's my sister, Haddie."

"Haddie. Why don't you find Haddie and hole up in your quarters while we're at the dock? Get yourselves settled in."
Bad Bargain

Gill stood watching the women, his mind racing as he tried to find a way out of this. Would she really snap his sisters neck? Could she? A nagging doubt told him she wouldn't but the verse was full of those who would and he could not risk...

"Seven."

"Wait... don't hurt her." Gill demanded.

"Six."

"Just let her go and we'll...."

"Five." Gill lowered the weapon slightly.

"How do I know you wont just pitch us into the black."

"You don't. Four."

"You'll take us to Persephone?"

"Yup, three."

"Promise you will let us go and not turn us in."

"Nope. Two!"

"I can fix things.. be useful.. earn our keep. I helped my pa run a ship like this one before the Reavers got him... I can patch you into the Cortex and run up all sorts of Go Shi that might be useful.."

"Sounds interesting, but you still gotta drop that shooter kid.. One."

Gill dropped the weapon and stepped back raising his hands.
Spy Me to the Moon

Spy Me to the Moon is the ninth episode of the first season. It aired on May 28th, 2018.

## Summary

Lacey and Brent go see the blue blood harvest eclipse, as Lacey wants to get a picture of it. Things go awkward in what was not a date. Wanda wants to get her hands on a book that Davis has before anyone else. Hank is suspicious about Oscar being nice to Emma.
Day 1: Late Evening - Tomorrows Orders

*"Lt. Riley, what are the odds you’d have three doctors onboard at the same time? Unless you’ve given Aello the long of it and sent her away?” Jacy sounded genuinely hopeful."*

"The same as me having 3 competent deckhands at the same time. Slim and none. I'll let you know if it ever happens. As far as Aello, your guess is as good as mine where she got off to. Maybe she has kin on Santo. Don't know, Don't Care."

Riley kicked back, scraping her chair across the floor loud enough to make fillings rattle. The Doc's story stuck a chord and put a decent sized knot in her stomach that she didn't care to admit to.

"You heard Devron. He's a head of schedule. That means you're all behind schedule. If you're gettin' paid as a deckhand, drink up all you want tonight, tomorrow morning 0600 I want this ship being shaped. La-Laoyd, you and ... Jat - supply run, you ain't back by take off, enjoy Santo, 'cause I ain't waiting. and this time put the goram food in the ruttin' Galley. List will be posted come morning. I want the cargo bay secured, and whatever foul shit Dim is cooking out there ditched. If I see you ain't busy I'll find something to make sure you're busy, and rest assured, I can be creative as rut when it comes to assignments. Dillon, whatever you're working on make sure Gil is working on. No free rides. Henry, you're a passenger, cargo bay is here forth off limits. If you need something, any one of these here deckhands will be more than happy to get it for you and if they're less than happy, you let me know. And doc...." She met his eyes briefly, steeling her jaw before looking past him. "Make sure the med bay is stocked. Anything you need list it up, I'll make sure it's taken care of." Riley poured one more shot before climbing the stairs up to the cockpit.
Busy... too busy

Henry was pleased to see it all come together and be rid of Santo. He'd stayed a bit longer than planned and had considered sticking it out, but after that incident on the other side of the planet...\*shudders\*

But, it'd been no worse than anything else, just harder this time since he'd sort of started a life there. There was that street rat who had been looking to him like a big brother type, them old folks in the apartment across the hall who had him over every Thursday for that awful stew they were so delighted to share, and Anna... oh sweet Anna. She'd had eyes for him since the moment they met but after one very close call one night, he'd taken a much higher road and let her be, claiming a war wound and trauma made it hard to connect with someone... Truth was he started feeling something and that scared him. Then, when he found out her grandfather was Alliance military, it was time to go.

He'd gotten the food stowed and hung around the galley near the first meal time, ready to prepare or jsut share the bounty he'd brought - even if he could just get a smile out of some of them for the case of wine he'd brought, he'd be happy.
Day 1: Afternoon - Oh Captain, my Captain

*"Now, now..." Keller said, throwing his credits on the bar. "You may not look like a billboard, but you sound like an asshole. See? I had no intention of being patronizing while patronizing, but here we are. This should cover my tab. Miss... Krishna? I'm sorry, I don't know what to call you. Captain Keller at your service, and I just happen to have a passenger ship leaving Santo. If you'd like to come with me, I'd be happy to discuss the specifics."*

The man knew his way around a conflict; a quick riposte had left the tender daunted. He had a sweeping effect to him, as if Ly was drawn in--those eyes, his accent, and... that hat. Lyen caught herself sizing him up, top to toe, and recovered into an awkward bow.

"Call me Lyen," she said to the captain, aligning her posture.

Into the eyes of the bartender, she chided, "Verse guide you toward good, brother," and turned her back.

"Captain Keller," she said, moseying toward the door, "Where is this ship of yours, and where are you going?" Honestly, Lyen didn't have a destination in mind--away would do nicely. She could tell he'd had a few rounds of something strong from the smell of him, but he seemed like an honest fella. The Verse wouldn't have sent her here without reason, and Captain Keller appeared just so.

She had nothing but the shirt on her back and the coin in her purse, but monks travel light and the Verse is a big place. The stars had caught her eye ever since she was a child; the lure never left her. Feeling her heart quicken, she knew in her bones that she was walking with the wind alongside Captain Keller,
A perfect end to a bad day

Haddie darted from the shuttle before Gill could stop her. The new woman would be busy a while yet and she had a job to do. She ignored her brother as he called out after her and scampered through the corridors until she found Marisols quarters. Perfect, the door was left ajar, she would have been in a rush when the alarm sounded.

Quietly she entered the room and scanned its interior with her one good eye. It came to rest finally on the bed. Fishing around in her satchel she produced a small spanner she had lifted from engineering a while back.

Quickly glancing back out of the room she went to work on the engineers bed. Loosening the leg supports just enough that once she put all her weight on it the thing would collapse and roll her onto the floor. A perfect end to a bad day for Marisol.

Her work complete she padded off to her own room to get some sleep.
Day 1 Afternoon - I understand

Henry had her.

"Anything you say,I'm indebted to you. And if I may ask for a favor as well... Please don't mention my last to anyone else, unless you have to, like the captain. I would rather folk not know. And my own room too. I'm a very private person."

Hans hugged him close.

"Oh, and Lieutenant, let's skip the padre... They never would let me take the vows or train me properly. These, my only, clothes don't help..."

At which Hans 'ran' to the back room again and returned with two, decent sets of attire. "In case you ever needed them... I have been saving them," he he with tears in his eyes. They hugged again and then Riley and Henry were on their way.

"What now?" Henry asked.
Best stock up on aspirin while you're at it

"I do have a couple questions though.

First where do I get my 20 credit finders fee? After all, I did find myself.

Second, what kind of shape is this tug in? I like to know what exactly I'm getting myself into.

Third, besides the two of you, how many other crew members are there? "

Riley tilted her head, eyeing the 'mechanic' up and down.

"Not meaning to be insulting, but you seem a little worse for wear to be all that picky,"
she surmised. "But if'n you are, you don't get credit for finding yourself. You want to have an existential crisis, there's a Dregoszara Temple of Enlightment and a Monastery on Haven, you take your pick and go find yourself there, and I'll charge you for transport.

Second, this 'tug' is the Lunar Veil. She's in a lot better shape than Keller's Sandfly but she needs a bit of elbow grease to keep her going. Last mechanic we had wasn't so diligent, so you likely will have your work cut out for you.

And third, right now we're running a skeleton crew, less 'n we pick up anyone else here or Persephone. Mechanics there are cheap and easy, you decide you don't like the El-Vee, we part ways no hard feelings. Captain pays a flat wage which ain't all that much, but you also a percentage of any job we take on, . The smaller the crew, the harder the work, but the larger the cut. We don't much ask questions about what we're hauling. Don't background check the crew. Captain's call, not mine. If you have lily white hands and are fixin' to keep them clean, this ain't your ship." He was listening, but his eyes fixed elsewhere causing Thorne to follow his gaze. A headache was taking shape, a headache the size of some Goram deckhand who couldn't tell aft from her ass.

A brief exchange of words and she was fed some cock and bull story about Lloyd going to procure supplies for the galley, meaning Riley would likely have to take care of that as well as help load it on the ship.

"Worst deckhand ever." Riley muttered under her breath.
Hedge Your Debts

**Hedge Your Debts** is the fourth episode of the second season. It aired on July 8th, 2019. It aired immediately after One Flu Over My Dead Body.

## Summary

Emma sees high art in Hank's hedge-trimming and sells his services around town; prompted by Oscar, Brent tries to collect on the IOUs piling up at Corner Gas, resorting to unorthodox means; Davis and Karen set up the cop shop in the Ruby.
Crimson and Clove

*The transmission abruptly ended, leaving him to ponder the situation. “Well, mah friend,” Dorian muttered to the sleeping Fed, “Time Ah get consensus on your disposition.” Deciding to bypass the captain and go straight to the comely pilot herself, Dorian switched the intercom. “Miss Riley?” he asked. “Ah have something tah show you. Could yah join me in the medbay?*

"Lieutenant Riley." The pilot grumbled inwardly to no one in particular. "I didn't spend 4 Gorram years at the academy to be called Miss." They were about to break atmo, she wanted to be in the cockpit for the landing, just in case the Captain brought along some Captain's Courage into the cockpit with him. That's all they'd need was a drunken crash on Santos.

"I'm really busy, Doc." She warned as she crossed over into the med bay. The place reeked of clove oil, either from Vas and his ruttin' cigarettes, or maybe just all dentists carried cloves. "Ship's running on fumes and I don't trust the Captain's lucid enough to give us a smooth landing." A cursory glance around the Med Bay showed that the fed was indeed incapacitated, unconscious and surprisingly looking none the worse for wear. Maybe he was the reasonable sort. He'd get a good laugh out of this entire misunderstanding. She grimaced; it was more likely they'd all soon be behind bars. Jacy would end up her bitch in prison until Riley traded her for a pack of smokes or something more useful. (Sorry Jacy! <3)
It bothered her how eerily calm the dentist was about all... this. Broken noses, stabbings, kidnapping, he remained nonplussed. Amused even. What goram type of dentistry did he practice back on Persephone? It was his 'professionalism' she admired. One thing was for certain. She always thought the profession required some sort of sadism, but above and beyond - he was no ordinary DDS. Riley folded her arms across her chest and tilted her head.

"Did you need something, or did you want to warn me about the imminent dangers of gingivitis?"
Anxiety ...

Riley was an intimidating presence. More intimidating, perhaps, than even Dillon's father was... To him and lately, at least. However, he knew Riley meant him no direct harm... As long as he didn't annoy her.

The short excuse for a conversation went as smoothly as could've been hoped for. He cleared the lump in his throat, speaking up just a hair. "Got it." With that he was gone, taking note in permanent ink for the future.

He returned to the Galley and felt himself physically relax. "She say's if it's not an emergency, you should ask someone else. Me... The Captain..."
Assistant

Wordlessly, Dillon hurried to wash his hands and put on gloves as well. He followed the doctor's instructions, getting a gag and holding the boy down. When necessary, he'd hold or pass something to the woman.

They were strangers. They'd just met, yet they payed no attention to each other, only focusing on Gill and his wound.

~~

Once Gill was taken care of, Dillon didn't need to be instructed to start disinfecting and cleaning up blood.

"So, uh... You're the crew's doctor?" he asked while he worked.
Agreeable

Mok threw down a card as he and his employer listened to the comm. He frowned down at the high ace and then up at Bolak who was holding his hand casually to one side with an amused twinkle in his eye.

“I don’t know what you are so happy about, that man is responsible for keeping us alive in the cold hard vacuum of space. Not a thrilling prospect to my mind.”

Bolak chuckled, “Oh I don’t know. He’s smart enough to surround himself by smart people. That’s good enough for me.”

Bolak threw down a Jack with a shrug. “Your game. Lucky we aren’t playing for platinum.”

“Lucky for who?” Mok grumbled.

“Why everyone that matters of course. Did you check on the cargo?”

“Not yet.” Mok picked up the cards and began to shuffle. “I’ll have a gander once we leave atmo.”

“Be sure that you do.” Bolak picked up his fresh hand and gave a low whistle. “You mentioned platinum?”

“I mention a lot of things.” Mok shook his head, “I think I’ll hold onto my cash for now.”

“Very well.” Bolak replied with a sigh, “Perhaps I can find someone else on board who is is more agreeable.”

“Or gullible.” Mok sneered.

“Or that.” Bolak agreed readily. “Gullible would do just fine.”
Day 1 Evening - You Can Never Be Too Secure

Someone...no one knew who...slipped up to the new passenger's door and pried the small security device loose. It was an alarm after all, not a lock and it came free with the careful application of a crowbar. They smashed it under their boot or shoe and ground it into it's tiny components then wandered off undiscovered.

With so many patients on and off the ship during the day while Dorian saw to their dental needs, it was impossible to keep track of them all. Whether it was passenger, crew or visiting gap-tooth, something was certain; Henry Freeman's quarters would remain unlocked with no alarm until he came up with a new security system.

And he'd have to ask the Captain's permission before installing it.
Day 1 Evening - Little Trouble in Big Santo

Vas was suddenly keenly aware of how he looked at the moment. His pants where two shade lighter than they should be, clearly aged and past broken in and rounding toward threadbare. His shirt had been darned more than once and was pretty sure he was missing more than one button. Probably the best-looking thing on him was his boots and even they were scuffed to hell and could use a deep polish.

*Dillon turned, suddenly very seriously to Vas. "You're going to that show." He announced. "I'll get you front row VIP tickets, or whatever it takes."*

“That’s awful kind of you but … I don’t think it works like that. Even with a ticket, they won’t let us in.” Vas said slowly thinking the problem through. “Dress code.” He explained. “Fuck it, were going to crash the Opera.” He said with a spreading grin. Vas couldn’t help but feel a little giddy over the idea, it was like he was a kid again. Sneaking out of the house and into the Opera house to watch his mom seemed appropriate.

*As he spoke, he noticed something in an alley out of the corner of his eye. Two kids being cornered. "... Aren't those ours?" he asked, his voice suddenly a much less confident tone. He pointed them out.*

“Wait what?” Vas turned to see where Dillon was pointing and squinted into the gloom. “Couldn’t be … they're not supposed to leave the ship …” He said TRYING to dismiss it. “ … oh come on.” He failed to dismiss it. It was them. Of course. “Ugh … I guess we go save them.” He said grumpily.

Vas marched over irritated coming up behind the wannabe thugs and crossed his arms in a show of superior thuggery. “Mei Yong Ma Duh Tse Gu Yong. Today is not the day to piss me off.” Vas said his face a dark cloud. “Scram. Now.” He ordered the thugs. “You two – is that a gun?!” Vas’s attention turned to the little duo and his frown deepened.

Translation:
Mei Yong Ma Duh Tse Gu Yong.
Motherless goat of all motherless goats
Day 1 Evening - Pair of Speed-bumps

“Aiya … báichī. Sloppy both of you. Walking around with a dirty blade.” Vas chided looking at the machete. He then flicked Gills forehead for the mounting stupidity.
“Don’t be flashing hot merch at me in public either. Ain’t me you have to be getting in the good graces of. Dohn-luh-mah?” Vas reminded sternly. It may not have shown but he was being far kinder and sympathetic than he would to anyone else.

Vas picked through the pile of knives picking out the ones that actually had potential and kicking the rest to the side. The particular blade Haddie gave up was a nice piece of shaving equipment but a shit blade to go after someone with since it was a slicing tool not a stabbing one. He picked a blade out for himself and jammed the gun under his belt at the small of his back. The rest he piled back into the kid's bag.

“Y'all had a bad case of cabin fever, I was feeling generous and you got flitch happy on my watch. Well, use the booze to soften up the captain and well figure out the rest later.” Vas said dictating the story. “Keep up don’t fall behind. I still have an agenda tonight. You need help carrying your load?”

Translation
Aiya
It’s very contextual. I this case Vas, in a nicer way, is saying “Da Fuck”

Báichī
Idiot (In the context of it be a disease)

dohn-luh-mah
Are we clear?

Qīngchu
Clear?
Box or Dimitri

Thomas sat at the table watching the exchange between the Captain and the newcomer Dimitri. What exactly was Keller going to do about the individual kept inside the crate. There was a good chance the ship tailing them was due to the captive in the box. Thomas rested his hand on his gun handle and waited to see what the outcome was going to be.

If that ship following them was due to this, Dimitri will have an awful lot of explaining to do and Thomas wasn't one to listen to stupidity.
Appreciation

Dillon appreciated appreciation. He was perfectly aware he hadn't earned appreciation from anybody who's appreciation mattered aboard the Lunar Veil, but he was doing what he could. He'd take it where he could get it.

"It's no problem, miss," he said, taking the robe. "I'll get it back to you ASAP."

With that, he took off to the laundry room. He figured he probably shouldn't waste the water and such on one single garment, so he added some of his own laundry, confident it was probably the newest and cleanest on the ship.

He did, in fact, know how to do laundry. He knew how to do most house work, and do it at least adequately.

The first few years, he was hospital bound. Then, once he was well enough, he was given a home where he was usually in bed. When he wasn't in bed, he was naturally kind and liked to feel useful. He'd often help the maid with her work. The first hundred times he'd asked to help, he'd been denied. Eventually though, he'd steadily been allowed to help more and more. First it was folding laundry. Then he was eventually allowed to set the table. Then dusting. Then helping cook. By the time he was ready for his second transplant, he was the one doing most of the house work.

He checked the tags and everything on Lyen's robe to be sure the color wouldn't bleed or anything before tossing it into the machine along with his own clothes. The load would be ready for the dryer in twenty minutes.

In the mean time, he shouldered his bag, which he'd taken along with his laundry and headed back to the med bay. He figured if Dorian was his doctor now, then he could leave his pills with him. He'd keep a bottle of mixed contents in his own things. It was usually a good idea to have a dose or two on him whenever he went somewhere, just in case.
Back in a Box

Gill and Haddie sat huddled in the dark. That was until Haddie reached into her satchel and pulled out a glow stick. She snapped the chemical phial inside it and jammed it behind a steal beam that ran just above their heads. So much for not stealing from the crew quarters! Gill did not bother asking which room it had come from.

Hiding and staying quiet was not a problem. It was how they had got on board in the first place after all and if they did not have a talent for it the Reavers would have had them long ago. That said being jammed in tight spaces like this did tend to bring back unhappy memories so perhaps the pills would be a good idea. He opened his palm to look down at the tiny tablet, lime green now in the light of the glow stick.

The feds had given them drugs. It was their answer to everything it seemed. Riley had that alliance feel about her. Take no crap, deal with everything head on as if the world was made of straight lines and when it doesn't make sense or hurts too much, take a tablet and make it all go away. Gill realised the thoughts were not his own, he was remembering his fathers words, or words like it.

Charting the deep black was not a business the alliance appreciated. If anyone was going to hand out maps to the rim and beyond it should be them. That way people moved where they wanted them to and didn't go making trails of their own across the whole wide verse. Their parents were hired by independent parties to scope out uncharted systems and anomalies. Corporate types and prospectors paid good money for the knowledge of untapped resources or a habitable sphere ripe for a new colony.

The Feds could not outlaw exploration so they just made it a bureaucratic nightmare. Paperwork for everything tariffs and charges galore. It was hard to make a living from finders fees alone, that led to shadier contracts and more worry should the Alliance come knocking, and they always came knocking. They were coming now...

"Jing tsai\*" Gill closed his eyes and slumped back against the bulkhead. It was getting gorram hot in there.

\*Jing tsai - Brilliant
Back on duty

"Christ!" Dillon pretended to jolt awake. He put on a face of complete confusion and a bit of fear. "What's going on??"

"Those're immunosupressants... And antidepressants. Literally all they do is weaken your immune system and keep your emotions balanced," he said, dissuading them from any ideas of experimenting for themselves.

He rubbed his eyes, sitting up. He pulled his bag out from just under his bed, but before he could open it, it was snatched away, it's contents dumped on the floor. "It's uh... It's right there." He pointed out a small mess of loose wrinkled paper. They dug around through his clothes, feeling his bag until they were satisfied. He'd hidden his watch and a small supply of the pills deep inside of a small vent where they'd be difficult to reach for anyone who wasn't as thin and lanky.

"What exactly is going on... May I ask?" His voice cracked just right as evidence of nerves and having just woken up.
"Fight or Flight"

One look at the limp little body in Vas’ arms was enough to spur Dorian’s adrenals…hard.

“Set her here,” the medic gestured toward the table as the punk carried Haddie into the infirmary, her brother in tow. Now on his feet, he checked her carotid pulse as she landed before him. “What do we know?” he asked as he laid a palm over her nose and mouth. Breathing…good.

He placed a stethoscope to her chest, then pressed a thumb to her wrist as Vas delivered a surprisingly detailed account, with breathless additions by Gill. “Mach,” the doc said quietly as he teased the child’s good eye with a penlight. “Dilated, but reactive,” he observed. “Heart rate’s elevated, but steady. Pulse matches. Mr. Vas,” he said as he opened her mouth, “hand me a piece of that cotton ovah there.”

Dorian turned the girl’s head to one side as he ran the cotton cloth through her mouth. After clearing away the last bits of vomit, he glanced upward. “Mistah Gill, Ah need yah to ask Lt. Riley how strong those tablets are. Get her tah write it down. If she doesn’t know, ask her tah give yah one fah me. Do yah understand?” He saw the hesitation…Gill’s eyes laying upon Haddie…and recognized the dread of a brother who was terrified to lose his sister. The familiar pang broke hoarse in his voice as he said “we’ll look out fah her while yah gone. Go on now, son.”

As the boy raced off, Dorian turned his eye toward the punk. “When yah found her, how much vomit didja see? Did it just look like normal stomach contents?”

“We’re not equipped tah run a blood tox panel,” Adler said, “but since we know our culprit is tha Mach, we got a plan. Mistah Vas, here’s where mah workin’ with one eye is a problem. We’re gonna detox her with an IV drip. Ah’ll prep tha dosage, but Ah’ll need yah tah set tha needle and shunt. Yah alright with that?”

He studied the girl's face. "Miss Haddie," Dorian said. "C'mon, now, little one. Time tah open that eye fah us."
Check Up

Putting away the last of the tools Gill picked up the box of parts that Thomas had put aside and thanked the man before heading back to check on Haddie. Walking into the infirmary he saw that Haddie was asleep and Lyen was sitting keeping an eye on the girl and the Doc was slumped in a seat nearby. He looked in a bad way.

"Devron gave me these for Haddie." Gill explained showing the box of mechanical do-dads. He placed the container down next to the bed being careful not to wake his sister.

"How is she doing?"
Coming to Grips

*”I’m Gill.”*

She could see the boy sorting things out, emotions behind his eyes ranging from confusion to loss to a wounded sense of propriety. It was no secret that this engine room had been treated as a temple; for all the crawling about she’d done, her coveralls were still clean as the moment she’d slipped into them. One look at young Gill told her that not not only had the last engineer, Devron, been a friend, but also a mentor. And now, here she was, an infidel in the cathedral, messing about with the very altar itself.

*"Has he gone? The old engineer? Is that what you are doing now?"*

Gill’s tone was unmistakable. Marisol could empathize with the upset he felt, but that didn’t put this boat in the air. “Hi, Gill,” she said as she got to her feet. “This is how it is. Captain Keller hired me…literally swooped in as I was closing a deal with another boat and took over. That tough woman…Riley? She gave me two hours to make sure this boat’s clear for upthrust, so I’m running a tight schedule.” She opened the tool locker for wrenches. “Sorry, but that’s all I know.”

After placing a few hand tools into her shoulder bag, Marisol regarded the teenager once more. “Tell me, Gill. Did you help the last engineer? Would you help me?”
Cry Baby

“They call it a cry baby because it's distracting Mr Mok, not because it actually sounds like a baby.” The dwarfs voice travelled ahead of him into the hot afternoon air.

“Well that is stupid name for it if you ask me.” Mok grumbled as he stepped down and out into the blazing sunlight. His Stetson set low over his eyes for shade.

“And hark, the vast throngs who are not in fact asking you.” Bolak had opted for a neat black flat cap to cover his bald pate and wore a pair of round dark glasses to shield his eyes.

As his feet crunched into the dry soil he spied Riley sat out front ready to usher in new business and fresh credits. Bolak affixed his most winning smile and walked over, Mr Mok in tow.

“Good day Lieutenant.” Bolak came to a halt a few paces away, “I have some small business up at the munitions factory and will require some cargo space for goods onwards to Beumonde. Should weigh in at around half a tonne all told. Needless to say we intend to remain aboard for a while longer at the rate we agreed with your good Captain.”

[Tag Riley]

“Erm it would appear we have company.” Mr Mok sounded on the verge of hysterics and when Bolak turned it was all he could do not to burst out laughing himself. It was only the look on Haddies face that stopped him.

The girl had crept out of the cargo bay behind them and stood there squinting in the sunlight. She was still dressed in her sleeping clothes and for some reason was daubed from head to toe in red and yellow paint. No. Not paint. Was that ketchup and mustard? The smell as it wafted over in the warm air answered the question.

Haddie stood looking at Riley, half scared half defiant. Through the smudges of red and yellow that covered her face dried tear tracks ran down her cheeks and onto her neck. Her hair was a tangled mass of condiments.

“Oh my.” Bolak said in a low voice to Riley, “I will be about my business, we can settle the particulars over supper.” And with that the two men took their leave and Haddie shuffled forward to stand next to Riley in silence.
Busted ...

*"What do you think you're doing? You pointed that thing right at me and pulled the trigger!" She motioned to the pistol in his hand.*
Dimitri looked slightly surprised at swat. He started mumble apology when he got good look at lady, jaw slacking slightly.
*Lyen looked like crew now, a baggy top and tight pants, hair down around one shoulder. Her hand landed on her hip, the other on her temple, an idiosyncratic pose from years past. "How would you like it if someone went around pointing barrels at you? Fú bāngzhù wǒ," the tools, guns, and powder spread around caught her attention, "What exactly do you do as apart of the crew?"*
Dimitri shook himself from trance and uttered thickly,
"Uhh, I do not now... I am Dimitri, I cook and other things. Uh, I uh...." He was stammering practically. Sheepishly he raised the pistol hanging it from his finger.
"I do security. I am not meaning scare you, lady. Sorry."
Words bubbled forward awkwardly as he sat gun down, and avoided eye contact.
Against The Wall

Aello somehow managed to save the clumsy girl's life, but she was worried as to how the rest of the crew would treat her and the girl. She was well educated on the term of expendable members and hoped this clumsy girl was not one of them. During her short career as a spy she learned quickly that if she died no one would miss her or mourn her, especially since her parents heard she died in an accident from Alliance brass. All she had was her experiences, education, wits and a handful of medical supplies. If she was going to make herself important to this crew she needed to sell it big time. She was going to tell them she was a Missionary with medic training since she didn't want a lot of questions or high expectations. Too many questions would eventually lead back to the Alliance and she could not have that so she had to keep a simple and low profile.

Looking around she found a wheelchair and rolled it up to Jacy and locked it in place. Then came the hard part as she struggled to pick her up and sit her on the chair. Despite being a tall and skinny girl, Jacy was a 114 pound noodle at this point so it took a while before Aello got her in the chair. Then she picked up what remaining supplies she could stuff in her bag and changed her oxygen tank before she got behind Jacy and held the wheel chair in front like a shield. She then prepared herself for some drama.
Day 1 Evening: The Opera from on High

Jacy had been to the opera more times than she could count and seen Edmond Gondinet’s Lakmé on more than one occasion. She didn’t speak or understand Italian, being one of the dead languages of Earth-that-Was, but the translations were indeed printed in the playbill if one trusted in their accuracy. Jacy did not, having seen discordant translations each time, but as every opera seemed to have the same underlying themes, she easily looked past that. The famous Bell Song aria in Act 2 was memorable, but all told, Jacy preferred the set production and ballet of the opera. It also provided an opportunity for young dandies to leer at the legs of the dancers with their ever-more powerful binoculars and to consort with them after the performance. Jacy’s own dancing days had come to an end at an early age so she’d not had the opportunity to entertain any of those likewise dandies, though her mother had pushed her heavily towards it despite her unsuitable age for courting by any patron.

Tonight however, she was roughing it with the Lunar Veil’s young crew. They would have garnered far too much attention down in the audience seating area especially with tonight’s sold out show, so they were high above the audience on a suspended metallic catwalk near the stage, but apparently unused as it was not lit and they’d seen no foot traffic. Jacy sat next to Vas and let her boots swing in the empty air beneath them. She’d never done anything like this before, though Vas looked like he was right at home. She got comfortable and leaned against the railing, wondering if she’d be able to recognize Vas’ mother from this distance. It was not long before that question answered itself. Even in full costume and makeup, when the Diva from Santo took the stage the family resemblance between she and Vas was undeniable. Imani Jat was very much alive.

Jacy leaned over and whispered, “Vas, she’s beautiful and sings of a true Diva.”
Day 1: evening "morning"

Reluctantly, Dillon sat up. He took a deep breath, trying to shift his mindset away from the dream and back to the present. Somehow, his wrists still ached. He tried not to touch them, knowing they'd only take longer to heal.

When he shifted his legs to the floor, he noticed a small stack of change on the nightstand. It hadn't been there before... Was it...? He took it. Yup. He was fairly sure it was his previously picked pocket change. A small smile crossed his lips. That was nice... The little klepto had regained a few points in his eyes, but... He knew he ought to make sure.

He pulled his bag around and opened it. It didn't seem like the contents had been disturbed. He pulled out a clean change of clothes which included a favorite simple grey shirt and set it aside. He felt the lining for a small imbedded zipper. It was a somewhat hidden pocket down in the bottom. He unzipped it and pulled out the contents: three plastic bottles completely full of pills, and an uncomfortably expensive watch. In a way, both things were birthday gifts, though one was indirect.

For his eighteenth birthday, Daniel (now Dillon) had received two things from his father. One was the watch; a family heirloom. The other, was a lung.

He packed the watch away and opened one bottle, taking an immunosuppressant, then adding an antidepressant for good measure. He swallowed them dry.

He returned the bottles to the pocket before getting dressed for the "day".

He left for the rest of the ship, already forgetting whatever time the watch had shown. He headed for the galley to scrounge up a quick breakfast before getting to work.
A hearty galley and a mystery stew

Having rummaged about and finding a bottle of whiskey, Dimitri pured himself a glass.

"Not my drink of choice, but drink I shall."

He looked around and sipped the western wheat juice thoughtfully.

He nodded his head to a steady beat, swinging a finger in time to an invisible beat, he muttered a few vocalizations of crude chords, before downing his glass and sliding it to the counter while he shimmied through the kitchen.
"There lived a certain man, in Russia long ago,"

He grabbed two slices of bread from his bag and set the toaster to medium before sliding down the mechanism.

"He was big and strong, his eyes a flaming glow," he sang while flexing and moving his hands in front of his face.

He shimmied to the beat to the fridge and continued to mutter the lyrics, grabbing butter as the toaster dinged.

"But to Moscow chicks he was such a lovely dear"

He looked into the fridge and wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"What is ship with no butter? No MEAT?!"
He slammed the door shut and wheeled towards the toast.

"Facking westerners and their fucking diet fads. I am MAN I need MEAT."

He marched to the fridge and opened it up to grab a tube of paste.

"The fuck is this?! I can't make goulash with this."

He sighed

"oppa Blin"
He returned to the toaster and squashed it in his grasp, then shoved it in his face dry.
"Driest thing I've had in years"
He said spraying crumbs as he turned to his whiskey glass to chase, grimacing.

He grabbed a spoon to lift out the floaters and broken down materials, holding his shirt over his nose to block out the horrible smell wafting from it. He set up a filter over a pot and threw a cloth over it for good measure. Dimitri hummed as he poured the foul stew through the double strainer, tapping it for a good measure then doffing the filter. He dumped about 100 grams of sugar, cut with a teaspoon of yeast, which he poured into the first hermetically sealed jar, and tossed a handful of raisins in after.
He stowed the second jar for later and cleaned up. He walked past the drove of people drinking to place his horrible concoction next to the engines, to ferment.

Dimitri returned to his dorm, exiting to go to the galley, in a fresh wife beater and his second change of coveralls, slate grey, and a grey hat pulled over his head. He had a coil of wire, pliers, metal brackets, and several batteries.

He plopped his stuff heavily into an open spot of table and went to work, looking at the people and fresh pots of stew suspiciously.