High Noon at the Lunar Veil Cargo Bay

*The sun rode high in the sky as it beat down mercilessly over the Eavesdown Docks of Persephone City. A glint winked off the chrome of the Lunar Veil as a trio faced off nearby. The Kid, an ambitious scrapper with a chip on her shoulder and something to prove, the Old Timer who replaced the speed of youth with a wily strategy that could only come from experience and the Stranger, a steely-eyed loner who may have been short on conversation but he more than made up for in lethal cunning. Any one of them could win this day, but only one of them would and each equally determined that losing wasn’t an option. They stared one another down, eyes narrowed, fingers twitchy, watching...waiting to see who would make their move. The Kid decided she was gonna go for-*

“Kid? Kid!” Patch waved his hand in front of Serena’s face trying to get the girl’s attention. “Ya zoned out there.” He chuckled.

Chores, for the moment, we're done leaving Vas, Serena and Patch to mind the ship. The trio sat around a wobbly fold out table at the open end of the cargo bay to catch a cool breeze. Given actual chairs seemed in short supply so Vas had claimed an apple crate as a stool.

The table was littered with cards, candy, shiny interesting doodads, nuts, bolts, and a few condiment packages.

Vas blue eyes squinted over his cards, a lemon drop clicking between his teeth. He looked intently to Serena, the silence growing. “Do you have any … Jacks.”

“The kid shifted her eyes to her card, then slowly back up to the desperado, who looked colder than ice despite the burning cigarette hanging from his lip. Wafts of smoke drifted upwards where a vulture circled the sky, Not a good omen, she chuckled to herself. The kid twitched, glancing towards the wrangler to her right before back to the desperado. She had one card left, and her pulse quickened. Do or die time. Is it a Jack, they wondered?“ Serena spoke from between clenched teeth, her voice deeper and more gravely. She wished she had a hat to pull the brim of down over her eyes, a fancy ten gallon hat, with holes for her pigtails.

“No...I ain’t wonderin’ that.” Patch said with a furrowed brow. He turned to Vas. “She’s doin’ it out loud now??”

“Shhhhh!!” Vas demanded matching Serena's intense stare. “I have her where I want her!”

“Great.” The old mechanic huffed, throwing up his hands. “Both nuts.” he muttered as he impatiently waited his turn.

“She gazed into the desperado’s eyes intently, neither moving a muscle, neither showing signs of backing down or blinking. Her eyes were dry, it was starting to get uncomfortable. A smile crossed her lips, a telling smile. Today is not your day, punk. “

“Do you … have … Jacks?” Vas said, leaning in, eyes narrowed. “Well, do you?”

A fingernail with chipped pastel polish tapped the deck on the table. “Go fish Nii-San,” she said from between clenched teeth. She waited for Vas to pick a card. “Hope you fish what you wish,” she added using her best outlaw voice.

“Bèi zǔzhòu de dàizhe lǜsè màozi de wūguī chǎn luǎn zǔxiān dào dì shíbā dài!” Vas cursed taking a card and glaring at it.

Patch’s eyes widened. “Vas! Language!” He scolded.

Serena giggled at the punk’s misfortune and twisted one of her pigtails to form a curl. “I can’t help it, Patch, our lives would be so much more interesting if they have voice overs like in that holo vid we watched. I’m still tryin’ to figure out how to add dramatic music. “Do you got any sevens, ya polecat?” She clutched her one remaining card tightly in her hand. “Well do ya?”

“What is she *psychic* or somethin’?!” Patch protested loudly as he grabbed the requested cards and threw them down in aggravation. What he failed to acknowledge was that it didn’t take much of a psychic to guess he might have them, considering the fistful of cards he was holding. His luck was absolutely rotten this round. He wagged a finger at the girl. “An’ you watch that ‘polecat’ stuff….it’s...offensive.” He added unconvincingly.

“She’s a monster. In pigtails.” Vas groused, laying down his half of the deck he collected on the table.

Serena giggled maniacally and dragged the ‘pot’ over to herself. “Three lemon drops, Six shiny--” she looked at Patch for confirmation - “hex nuts? And a button! I love this. Nii-San can you put it on my backpack?”

“The stranger eyed the kid … crap, I'm no good at the narrating ... yeah sure whatever.” Vas said with a dismissive wave fishing out a black cigarette.

Patch leaned back in his chair to take in their surroundings. The Downs weren’t exactly a flurry of activity today, which left them with plenty of time to...kill time. “Seems like there ain’t too many bitin’.” The mechanic said, motioning to the large ‘Crew Needed, Passenger Wanted, Few Questions’ sign propped up against their makeshift table. “Is this all we do? Just...wait?”

Serena giggled, then clenched her teeth together. “Waiting. An outlaw’s worst enemy, side’s of course the actual law, who could arrest and hang or shoot them an’ stuff. Yet there they were, on edge, parched…” Serena thought for a moment, then switched back to her regular, non-narrator voice. “Can I go make some iced tea?”

“No! I demand a REMATCH!” Vas said petulantly, smoke blowing out of his nose.

“How many rematches izzat so far?” Patch enquired.

“Not enough to beat her! That's how many! We can do it! We were SO close Patch!” Vas said dramatically.

“Honestly, iced tea sounds pretty good.” The mechanic confessed as he wiped some sweat away from his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Traitor.” Vas hissed.

“One more hand, the kid decided, looking to her two opponents. Perhaps because she knew they were holding out with lemon drops,” she glared accusingly at Vas. “Perhaps because if she waited long enough, the old timer would cave and make iced tea for them all,” she glared to Patch, “But one thing was certain, the kid would play one more hand that day.”

“Two things are for sure,” Patch corrected in a mocking impression of Serena’s narration, “an’ the other is that if the Old Timer --why the heck am I the Old Timer?!-- doesn’t get a drink soon, he’s gonna fall over!” He added finger wiggles for dramatic effect.

“Dehydration is a weakness of character Patch.” Vas advised. “She’ll lull you into a false sense of security and next thing you know all your nuts will be gone …” The punk paused for a moment “... That came out wrong …”

“Last time ya said it was sleep!” Patch objected. “And yeah … yeah it did.”

“The Kid liked extra sugar,” she reminded Patch, looking at him expectantly.

“The Kid will get what she gets and won’t complain.” The mechanic shot back as he got up and made his way up the cargo bay ramp.

Jackson had been wandering the port for a matter of hours, his duffel of belongings slung over one shoulder, though he hadn't been seriously looking at any of the ships. He always liked to meander amongst the crowd a while before departure; to feel the vibrancy, the life of the flowing crowds. It was something he missed aboard ship, but he didn't have much choice. Any clinic he opened was liable to shut down before long - Jackson was perhaps too compassionate to make a steady income - and he knew better than to work on the Core worlds. Everything was cold and dispassionate out there. No one really cared about maintaining and providing life so much as maintaining their paychecks. Jackson cursed under his breath as memories of Bernadette came to mind.

Moving on from those thoughts Jackson began to actually take in his surroundings. The ships were varied drastically, from pristine yachts for the wealthy to rinky-dink broken down freight craft. One particular of the rinky-dink category caught Jack's eye and he began making his way through the crowd towards an old Firefly. As he neared Jackson saw there were a few people in the open cargo bay, looking to be playing a game of cards. There was a sign stating *Crew Needed, Passenger Wanted, Few Questions* close by.

As Jackson walked up the ramp one of the crew, clearly the oldest by fair, got up from the table.

"You lot in need of a doctor?" Jackson asked the others as he came level to them.

“No, he always makes that sound when he gets up outta a chair,” Serena replied in her normal voice as she motioned to Patch. “You should hear him when he wakes up from a nap, or after he eats street vendor tacos. You’d think -- Oh, wait, did you mean for the ship?” She looked over to Vas for confirmation. “We don’t have a doc yet on the ship.”

“Do not stand next to him after Taco night …” Vas affirmed shuffling the cards before turning to the older man standing at the cargo bay entrance. “ … Captain will be back soon. Take a seat if you can find one.” The mohawked punk offered.

“If you’re looking for a ship, this is the best one here, on account of it’s got the best mechanic who always puts extra sugar in your iced tea when you ask. I’m The Ki--- er… Serena. This here is my Onii, Vas, and that’s Patch, the mechanic who always puts extra sugar in your iced tea when you ask.”

Patch didn’t turn back, instead throwing a lazy hand up in greeting to the newcomer as he made his way up the ramp to fetch the tea.

The Lunar Veil was cramped indeed, and Anikah learned quickly that elbow room was one of the many 'amenities' to which Jago, whom she learned was the ship's captain, and Tim Casey, pilot, alluded would be found wanting. Her own cubicle of a room could scarcely contain the two trunks which she brought aboard. The bed was a spartan cot which dropped from a compartment in the wall. And the lavatory would be *shared*.

The room itself left little to the imagination as to what she would do there: sleep only. And sleep alone, by the looks of the bed. She jutted out her lower lip. Bored.

Unlatching her trunk, the companion poured over the outfits within. A sleek jumper popped out, held aloft by her slender arm. "Too bright," she said, tossing it aside. "Too sleeveless," she commented of a tube top and it joined the pile. "Too topless," a pair of pants flew through the air.

"Ah, yes," the companion's face lit up as she rose to drape a pair of long black slacks against her legs. Bending, she retrieved a classy white button down shirt and a matching black blazer with tasteful shoulder pads. In a few moments she was out of her old clothing and into the new ensemble. There were no mirrors to speak of, so the kittenish woman eyed herself from her own sunglasses. Content with her visage, Anikah slid back the door to her room.

From the catwalk above, she could see the pair who carried her luggage into the ship were seated around a table with a portly man. Tim Casey, pilot, and Jago, Captain, were nowhere to be found. It looked as though they were playing cards, then the portly man made his exit and another joined. The companion wound her way down the steps for a closer look.

Sure enough there was a pile of cards on the table, complete with a betting pot of what looked liked... lemon drops, a piece of copper, a lollipop, and a knife. Strange, she thought, her brow crinkling.

Having approached the group from behind, she noticed that the young man, probably no older than nineteen or so, had eyes in the back of his head and adjusted in his chair to keep an eye on her. She offered him a polite nod as she drew nearer. There were bruises around his brow and cheek, as if he'd seen the business end of someone's fist recently. Maybe over poker playing, she gathered, from the cards and strange stakes in the kitty.

The others there, a tall man and the small teen girl, were preoccupied in conversation. Anikah turned to regard the cargo bay which was fastidiously stacked and tied with curiously ornate knots. Though nothing here was extraordinarily exceptional, it beat staring at the inside wall of her accommodations.

A new low for Lawrence. That was the record being set today.

His errand boy had been given a new purpose, that being finding him safe and reliable passage off world. As he should have known, the worthless welp had pocketed his hard earned money and left him with intel on the cheapest ship in the docks.

Now he realized the true error in not scouting in person. Staring at his escape was like looking at his prides coffin.

What made him truly doubt reality was the gorgeously refined woman that entered such a vessel.

*Now what is so damn special about this ship?*

He chose to wait a few more hours to make sure he hadn’t imagined someone willingly boarding this “Lunar Veil”.

This was confirmed when a man entered the same ship, making Lawrence spit up the cheap tap water that passed for safe around here.

He decided that this was his sign, either he would get a room or lose it to someone else. Patting the bag of loose cash at his side to steel his nerve, Lawrence approached and made note of the sign sitting in front.

*Passengers wanted*

A nice sentiment, though it made him wonder what “cargo” they held.

“Hello? I am hoping to speak with the captain about passenger transport?”

Jackson smiled warmly at the girl and pulled up a crate to sit on. "Nice to meet you, Serena. And you, Vas. You been on the crew long?" he asked, beginning to rummage through his duffle for the stash of lemon drops Bartlett had given him before he disembarked. Seemed they'd be pretty useful after all.

“Yep!” Serena replied, shifting the lemon drop from one side of her mouth to the other. Six months did constitute being on the crew long, because, she rationalized, time was different in Spacer years. “We’re not here as long as Patch or as Tim or Captain Jago. And just so you know, it’s customary when someone introduces themselves to give your name back .” She set about stacking the shiny hex nuts on the table “I been telling Nii-San that on account of he --” Her voice trailed off as her focus shifted elsewhere. Vas had shifted his chair, and the action caught Serena’s attention, as did the companion standing nearby. The job, for now, was finished, and it *was* later, so the teen side-eye ogled the newcomer.

Vas shifted, getting more uncomfortable taking a long drag of his cigarette and sent out a plume of spicy smoke. He felt surrounded lady to the left, some kind of preacher to his right, and the old guy to his back. “Captain’s out … “ He said, taking the clipboard leaned up against his apple crate stool as he looked at the man that just walked up on the ship. “... you booking passage?” Vas asked, moving to hold the clipboard in front of the new guy, waiting for him to take it.

“We still got room.” He said, wiggling the clipboard impatiently. It had all the basic info for a booking passage, nothing out of the ordinary. Price, length of time, that kind of stuff. Mostly so there didn’t have to be a song and dance about passengers booking passage.

“But we’re leavin’ soon, so you may wanna sign up quick.” Serena offered.

Patch came back with a tray balancing a pitcher and four glasses on it. “I leave for two minutes an’ it suddenly gets interestin’.” The burly mechanic quipped as he nodded towards each of the people assembled then frowned at the dainty tray. “Huh...gonna need more cups.” He thought out loud before flashing a friendly grin to the group.

“I thought we were interestin’,” Serena grumbled with indignity.

"We are." Vas assured Serena.

“I didn’t mean like-” Patch stumbled over his words trying to placate the girl before deciding on a distraction tactic. “Do ya want your extra sweet tea or not??” He pressed.

"Nice dodge." Vas complimented giving the thumbs up.

"Yes please!" She said, indignity forgotten as she held her glass up for him to fill.

While not expecting much, the way in which Lawrence was greeted by the crew left much to be desired.

He was hoping to meet the captain, the boy had said he was an older man. This boy, who couldn’t be bothered to even stand for potential payment, was what he had to deal with.

“I see, would you be his second-in-command, then?”

Taking the clip board and looking over the barebones question list, he finally found one thing to like about this ship. The less they knew, the better.

Seeing the suite already booked was of no comfort, though he guessed it couldn’t be much better than any other.

Scribbling his signature and handing the pad back with his signature grin, Lawrence made his next inquiry.

“I apologize for the question, but will you be in port for much longer?”

Hands in her pockets, Anikah listened as an approaching man asked to book passage, and another sat down at the table, peeling his bag in two looking through the contents. They were both tall. Too tall. Meanwhile, the little one with the pig tails forgot her manners.

At first the companion turned this way to look at nothing in particular, then that way to see if the waif was still watching. Those big brown eyes were trained on her, the mouth hanging slightly agape. Just as Anikah was fitting to fix her own stare back, the boy-man stole the teen's attention with a clipboard and Anikah's stuck out tongue and squinted eyes had no recipient.

The portly man returned carrying a tray. By way of introduction, he nodded to her; she returned his nod with a faux salute from her brow. She liked him, he flustered easily. Sidling up beside the refreshments, Anikah eyed the pitcher from the bridge of her nose to ascertain just how sweet so-called 'extra-sweet-tea' was.

It was a motley crew assembled here on the gangway, seated on apple crates and chairs, cards splayed, tea sweating in its pitcher. There was a familiar wind gusting in from Persephone; a dry Santa Ana set the hair at her nape to standing. Six people stood around the low table in the bay at high noon. She knew not one, yet she felt an uncomfortable familiarity stretching out its tendrils in their direction.

“No.” Vas said, answering both the man's questions at once. “Pay the Captain when he gets back.” The punk looked past the preacher looking man, still didn’t know his name, seeing Tim and the Captain on the mule making their way through the port to the ship.

“Clear the table, Captain coming … Patch coulda ya put out drinks to the side? Well have ‘em after loading up the supplies.” Vas said.

Serena pocketed her winnings and gathered up the cards, placing them in her other pocket before dragging the crates they’d been sitting on off to the side.

Vas flattened and folded the table, stashing it to the side as the Captain and pilot arrived.

Patch gave an apologetic smile to the new additions and quickly put the tea tray down off to the side. "'Nother time, I guess." He shrugged. "'Less ya wanna help yaselves, that's ok too." He added.

“... and all i’m saying is next time you can have your shore leave. Next stop you can have yourself some time to take in the local flavor and do whatever it is you normally do.” Jago promised Tim as they pulled up to the ship. “I leave for one hour and you all multiply like gorram rabbits …” Jago muttered.

“I love rabbits!” Serena whispered to Vas. The Captain didn’t much like kids, even though 16 was legal age on a lotta planets, so she tried to be as invisible as possible when he was around.

The pilot nodded and offered a smile to Anikah Vidar, “Looks like we’ll have a few more of the cabins full up,” he noted.

“Right! Captain this is some guy, he needs to pay you, already signed the paperwork ...” Vas said using his nose to point to Lawrence. “... that other guy is looking for work.”

“He’s a doctor, I think,” Serena added. “On account of he asked if us lot were in need of a doctor, and I said that’s just the noise Patch makes when he stands up and then I realized --” Serena stopped herself from talking. Keeping invisible was a lot harder than she imagined it would be.

"What noise izzat?" Patch questioned sounding offended.

“What noise?” Vas shrugged innocently, nudging Serena along, arms full.

“Tim mind collecting from Some Guy,while I deal with Doctor Other Guy.” Jago said approaching the indicated man.

“Sure,” Tim said brightly, approaching Lawrence, and taking the clipboard. “Cabin 1? Great choice, I’ll show you to it, we are happy to accept credits - or credits, and we’ll take the credits up front, if you please. This all the luggage you’re bringing?”

“So, Other Guy, you a Doc?” Jago asked approaching Jackson.

"Yeah, studied on Bernadette," Jackson replied, offering a hand. "Jackson Renfield, but you can call me Jack if you feel friendly enough."

Jago shook the man’s hand. “You have the certs to prove it?” The Captain asked.

“Yeah, in my bag. Do you need them now?”

“Only if you’re looking to get hired.” Jago chuckled.

“Well, that was the general idea,” Jackson said, grinning himself as he pulled the documents out of his duffel and handed them over. “Should be in order.”

Jago looked over it nodded and handed it back. “All right, you can take Cabin 4. You're a doctor, your pay is per diem, we'll supply room and board, you'll get a few credits each time you do something doctory. If you get my crew killed I shoot you if you just suck I'll replace you. Congrats. The chore list is on the fridge.” Jago said turning to the rest of his crew “Alright people double-time it and let get squared for take off.”