recursal/Fanatic-Fandom huggingface dataset:
Hell hath no fury like a Haddie warned

"You stay!" Gill called over as he spotted Haddie sneaking off trailing Marisol and Lyen.

She looked over and after a second of consideration put aside her usual defiance and turned tail. She would not make any more trouble for her brother today. Not of the sneaking off kind anyway. She had listened in to the argument with Vas earlier and had picked up enough to know that the chief had also chewed out Marisol with the apparent result of her leaving.

This would not stand. Haddie had accepted Marisol into her very small circle of trust, there had been an epic food fight to mark the occasion. This was the second mechanic she had lost and she knew just how to deal with the new one. First stop the engine room to make her enmity known. She watched him from the doorway with a narrowed eye. A tall man with the kind of face that old girls went all silly over. She imagined shoving a pie in it and smiled.

Mentally she checked off her options. Life was about learning and she had learned that messing with the engine itself was a bad idea. There was the knife, but Mr Bolak had told her that it was for emergencies only and besides everyone got really excited when she stabbed people. Adults were so strange sometimes. To her mind poking your problems with something sharp was a quick and efficient way of making them go away.

(TAG Drake: if he notices her there).

No she would have to do something special for this new guy something personal. It would take some thought. In the mean time she had decided to re-purpose a number of top notch pranks she had been saving for Lyen. She had decided that Vas, how had Gill put it? "Had a stick up his ass." and needed to have said stick removed.

She thought carefully as she returned to her room and searched through her stash of impromptu pranking tools, mostly borrowed from around the ship and her recent visit to town. Mr Bolak had taken her for ice cream after she lifted the bag for him, he said she showed real promise.

Cue Pranking Montage to Taylor Swift "Look what you made me do"

*Cut to Haddie grinning as she stretches see through film over Vas toilet and carefully lowers the lid.*

*Fade to Haddie mixing a tube of glue into Vas' hair product.*

*Pan down to Haddie using her lock knife to slice holes in the ends of all of Vas' socks she pokes in her finger and wiggles it through the other side while grinning mischievously*

End Montage

Haddie slapped her hands together for a job well done and made her way to the Galley for a well earned snack.
Jacy Plays Dress up for a Space Walk

Jacy was already suited up and ready to go when the others arrived in the cargo bay, which had an independently controlled environmental system and could be depressurized during flight. The space suit she wore was not built to flatter anyone’s figure, but it did a good job of concealing said figure too, and with the addition of the helmet with it’s reflective visor down, Jacy was well protected from the immediate perils of a spacewalk through the Black. Once she was in a zero gravity situation all this protection would become weightless, but unfortunately she’d have to stomp around in the awkward suit until then and do her best not to let its weight bore her into the ground.

She looked over the checklist again to make sure she was patched together properly. It wouldn’t do to go dying in space less than twenty-four hours into her first job. Not that this was her first job; nope, clearly she had loads of experience as a Deckhand. Said so right on the paperwork Riley forged during Jacy’s extensive interview and vetting process. Rigorous and meticulous was that Riley when she was fabricating a work history out of lies and falsified testimony.

Now entirely confident that she would not die in the exact moment of depressurization, Jacy slowly turned around to look over Devron and....was that the Captain? Their mechanic wasn’t in a space suit at all and Jacy started wondering if she had misunderstood the mission. Had she put on this damned suit for nothing? She pointed at Devron, specifically the sidearm holstered in his belt.

“Do I need one of those? I don’t have one of those. I want one of those.” Thanks to her rebreather and a dodgy microphone in her helmet, her voice was muffled as it came over the comm. “Are you going out there in that?”
Hanging Out Her Shingle (Early Morning, before Takeoff)

The moment he stepped out of his quarters, Dorian sensed that something was going on.

“Mornin’ Miss Haddie..” he attempted as the child raced past him on buddha knows what errand. His first clues were no response whatsoever from her, and the murderous look in her eye.

A glance into the cargo bay showed what at first appeared normal behavior. The bourbon shipment had arrived. As he watched, Gill and Elle pulled heavily laden pallet jacks, dropping their cargoes before securing them beneath restraining nets. A normal scene, but for the fury written on Gill’s face. Even the taciturn Elle, whom Dorian presumed might be marvelous at poker, wore a scowl.

The lights flickered briefly, before the deck plating began to vibrate beneath his feet. *Main engine start,* the medic lifted an eyebrow as he checked his pocket watch. *We leaving early?* he wondered.

A hand touched his shoulder. Kate was there, her eyes telegraphing that serious news was just ahead. “We should talk.”

“Apparently,” he replied as he followed her into the medbay. Once the door was securely closed, he turned to face her. “What’s happened?”

“Marisol’s out.”

“Excuse me?”

“Roose just told me,” Kate answered quietly. “She’s off the boat.”

Dorian took a deep breath, then sighed. “Vas Jat.”

Kate touched her index finger to her nose.

“Has anybody spoken with Marisol?”

“Lyen, maybe. Roose said they were talking….then Marisol packed and told him goodbye.” She stepped closer to Dorian, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “I’m going with her.”

“Should Ah pack?”

“I’m guessing not?” she responded. “But once I catch up to her, I’ll let you know if there are fresh orders.”

He nodded. “Makes sense. Yah gotcha med certification. One of tha equipment crates oughtta go with yah…might help yah both land jobs as a package deal on yah next boat.”

“Thought of that,” she nodded. “Thanks.”

“How are yah set fah coin?”

“Not great. Intel’s been pretty spotty with their payouts.”

Dorian loosed a mirthless chuckle as he went for his pouch. “This is mah draw,” he handed her a gleaming card. “Ah’ll have mah lawyah put yah name on tha account. That’ll work til yah get hired.”

“Thanks.” She pocketed the card. “This was kinda fun,” Kate looked about the medbay. She nodded her head as her eyes took in the scene for the last time. “Nice working with you, Dr. Adler,” she said, offering her hand.

He smiled. “We’re not finished yet, colleague.” As they shook, Dorian whispered, “Ah’ll use yah encryption fah status. Let yah know when we reach Highgate.”

“We’ll do likewise. Stay alive, Dorian.” With a smile, Kate Russokova slipped through the medbay door.
Dithering

A thing had been playing on Gills mind for some days now. He had asked Vas to give him some pointers, some tricks and advice to help him take care of himself and his sister better in a tight spot and the punk had put down a challenge for him.

*"Tell ya what ... When Doc comes round you ask him what happened to the guy who did that number to his face. If he tells you true ... I'll give you some pointers. Fair?"*

A simple task, ask the Doc a question and get a true answer. A simple thing for Vas perhaps, he was confident and knew how to speak to people, Gill not so much. Besides which life on the LV was full of constant surprises and he had hardly had the time never mind the courage to carry out the task. Which is why when he saw the Doc making his way to his room and closing the door behind him he almost did not not knock.

He stood outside hesitating for a moment, took a step away and a step back again. He raised his hand to knock and took a deep breath and then let the breath out and lowered his hand. He heard movement inside and stepped away again, this time almost reaching the end of the walkway before forcing himself to stop and turn.

*You damn fool chwen, just speak to the man*

With a rush of movement before he could change his mind Gill marched up to the door and hammered on it three times. Perhaps a little too hard? He winced and waited.
Innocent (Well sort of)

*"You uh... got in another good skirmish there on Persephone, didn't ya?" He asked, settin' out three glasses, and offering whiskey to them both. "Listen, I ain't good at bein' subtle. We got a ship tailin' us ever since we left Persephone. Either of you have an inclination as to why that is? You piss someone off son? Sleep with someone's sister? It's okay, I understand how those things can happen. I just need to know what we're dealing with, and to let you know we might need you down in the engine room, in case they decide to try anything."*

Thomas sits and listens to the Captain explain abut the trailing ship.

Thanks but, no thanks. Thomas pushes the whiskey back towards the captain. I don't drink when on duty or when we are in flight. I need to keep my wits about me and not clouded by Alcohol. As for the Skirmish, yes I did, guy was cheating like a reaver whore. The people I gamble with though are small time and wouldn't take a grudge any farther than fists or maybe knives. As strange as it sounds, we sort of have a code about that. Oh there is cheating abound, fighting and drinking but, between us only, no innocents.
As for sleeping with someone's sister, no. I'm not into messing with women for a single nights pleasure. I have committed no crimes and no bounties on my head.
Maybe the owners of the ship where Twit injured herself are looking to talk.
Thomas turns to Aello. Care to tell us about that ship and what happened?
Day 2: Mid-Morning - The Hangover

Captain Keller woke at his usual late-morning, a mouth full of soggy cotton and a brain to match. Rinsing his mouth with a shot of whiskey, which he swallowed after, he showered, skipped the shave and dressed.

Riley, who'd been up since 5:30, stood at parade rest outside of the cargo bay, watching the goings on at the ship. By putting feelers out they had secured two other small jobs, delivering a small crate of medical fill-in necessities requested by a doctor on Ezra for pocket change, as well as some mechanical parts for another vendor. It would be a pittance of a run if not for the mysterious crate that was 'paying handsomely.'

"I miss anything?" Keller asked, loping up next to his Lieutenant. Riley's mind looped through the events of the night before, one in particular sticking out to note.

"Aye, Sir. Mechanic's ahead of schedule."

"Supply run?"

"Taken care of. I put Vas and La-Loyd on it. "

"That a smart idea?"

"Vas seems competent-ish. I made a list. "

"I booked us a passenger."

"Aye, Sir. Think he's leaving."

"Really? Well shit. We got a policy on refunds?"

"Aye, Sir. We decided to let Dimitri handle all refund requests." The captain mulled this over briefly, making his 'mulling this over' face.

"Good policy. Anything else? Course been charted? Pre-flight checks?"

"Course has been charted, fuel cells, water checked. We're prepped for take off. I'll give you warning before we do so. I know how you like to make your announcement."

"You make it sound so unimportant--" he muttered, shuffling towards the galley for some blessed coffee. Once that was done, he could make his rounds on his own pre-flight inspection, check on the mechanic, the passengers, the crew.
Fumes and Disquiet

It seemed the infirmary had become quite the hot spot.

Vas’ sudden inclination to personally sanitize the habitually sterile medbay had resulted in more than just a night spent filtering the eye watering chlorine fumes through his pillow. Considering the punk’s domination by the woman dubbed “the Ace of Hearts,” Dorian now spent his time considering the personal bonds and their resulting motivations. The observation that Vas’ efforts had failed to dislodge the tiny listening device from a well scrubbed shelf did little to aid the medic who sought to parse fact from growing paranoia. *The mind could run amok,* he thought before making a third listless attempt at the same paragraph.

Fortunately, there were certain protocols whose observance would help restrain his demons. Since their arrival, Marisol and Kate had both strictly adhered to conversational governance. “Treat each space as if it were bugged.” The adage might not have been Lesson One, but it had been stressed early and often during training. Now, after the accidental detection of both surveillance and surveillant, the possibility of more M-97’s planted about the boat was quite distinct, as were the growing stack of “threat” cards to be either neutralized or discarded. *“There are many days until the house opens its’ doors,”* Kate had warned him, before doling out his assignment. Given the subject’s visibility, that alone was a puzzlement…

*"Doc you there? I sliced my hand up..."*

Dorian glanced up from the book. “Ovah here,” he said as he rose from his seat in the patient lounge. The boy cupped his injured hand protectively as the medic led him into the infirmary. “So what happened, Mistah Gill?” he asked. As the deckhand explained the accident, Adler set the table to its chair position. “Hop on up,” he invited his next patient. “Let’s have a look.”
It's gonna be a LONG flight

Keller made eye contact with the nun, freezing for a moment like a compression coil wound too tightly. He wasn't particularly a religious sort, save for a brief time as a child when he'd be dragged in his Sunday best and would mouth the word "Watermelon" repeatedly rather than actually learn the words to the hymns. And it wasn't that religious folk made him nervous. In his line of work, he'd transported people from all different faiths, but this particular journey, he had a grieving widow, her dead husband and a woman of the cloth along for the ride. It was either the start of a bad joke, or possibly some bad karma, but as long as it didn't affect the temperament or well being of the Drog-Kryi, he could deal with it.

"Sister." He said, half apologetically, retrieving the high end bottle of liquor from its place in the cabinet. He still wasn't 100% sure where it had come from, but no need to look a good gift horse in the mouth. He knew better than to get between two women and their talk of yoga -- the thought gave him pause for longer than intended, and he decided it best if he enjoyed his adult beverage elsewhere.

Stepping down the metal rungs to the cargo bay, he checked in on the Drog Kryi to see how they were settling now that they'd broken atmo. The rooster haired boy was stepping over the Drogs, Keller eyed closely to make sure no paws were trampled. While all the dogs were lazing about, one in particular made him take pause. Half in his crate, half out, the Captain figured the change in pressure might be affecting them. Riley'd best make sure this was a smooth flight.

Riley adjusted her headset, content to be alone on the bridge. She was agitated not by the take off, but by the fact that after spiking Haddie for the Alliance visit, and after the last trip - three Mach 5's wouldn't cut it for the long trip to New Kasimr. Valentine had turned out to be one dead end after another, as was the case on a lot of non-military Core planets, but they'd have to stop mid journey anyway to refuel, maybe she'd have better luck at a Skyplex.

For the time being, even with the tablet dissolving slowly under her tongue, it was hard to focus on anything else.
Just Horsin' Around

Jacy laid a gentle hand on Lara Walker’s shoulder as she passed, giving it a soft squeeze. An Alliance troop moved in to flank the blonde on each side and escorted her to the engine room. Jacy’s mouth was running the entire time. “Dimitri is a big brute of a man, but that’s what gets my engine purring so I stick by his side. I wish he was a man of few words, he certainly says little worth repeating, but he likes to talk. Probably thinks I like to listen to him, but a girl like me ain’t with a horse of a man for the dialogue. He doesn’t speak English and I don’t know engines, but between us we manage to keep this boat in the sky when we aren’t workin’ on each other. Alright boyos, say hello to my stud!” Jacy pushed open the hatch to the engine room.

She shouted at Dimitri in passable Russian, “Eti muzhchiny khotyat s toboy poznakomit'sya. Proizvedite na nikh vpechatleniye svoimi sil'nymi rukami.”

“What did you say to him?” one of the troops asked as the other looked around the room.

Jacy moved over to Dimitri’s side and bench pressed one of his arms to lift it around her body as she slunk in close. “I told him to show you his big strong arms and leave the horse dick for me.” Jacy reached over and grabbed Dimitri’s crotch to emphasize her words. “Mamma doesn’t share, but it’s big enough to go around.” She winked at the Alliance troops.

Translation: These men want to meet you. Impress them with your strong arms.
Depressed

Dillon groaned a bit. "Do I have to?" His voice sounded suddenly exhausted. Judging by the look Jacy gave him, yes, he had to.

He sighed, lifting the cup to his lips and taking a respectable mouthful and downing it. The burn was nothing to the dozens of medicines he'd had in his life.

He probably would've talked without the alcohol, but he'd make Jacy happy.

He ran a hand through his hair. "I uh... Not a lot to it, really... I ran away from home." He knew more would be demanded of him than that. "I... I was depressed as hell... I just... Needed to get away from things... By any means. I knew nobody would let me leave because of my health... So I left."
Day 2: 2 Hours to Take Off

Riley wasn't sure if Santo was cloudy or just polluted, either way the sun was blocked and the air felt thick, heavy. Inwardly it made her glad they'd be lifting off because the humidity clung to her nodded in acknowledgement as Henry made his way back to the ship. She hadn't seen him slip out that morning, but she'd decided ages ago passenger comings and goings were their own business.

"Morning." She said, curtly. "Take off is in about two hours, if you have any other on-world business to attend to, I'd make it quick. We have a few drops to make on Ezra, you can decide then and there if you want to continue faring with us. Don't see as why anyone would pick Ezra to settle on..." she lowered her voice "but at least you'll be far from your abbey. I don't believe you'd be found, not many people choose Ezra as a move-to spot. If you thin there's anything else you need, you can speak to one of the crew on board. Dimitri!" She called into the ship. "Make sure the crates are secured! And that none of them have people in them!" To Henry she added: "It happens more times than I care to admit. Two hours people! Where the hell are my deck hands?"
Let's put this bird out to sea

Jacy looked around for the target of their mechanic’s statement, but as the deckhand she was so obviously the ears to hear. Riley saved the day once again by letting Thomas know Jacy preferred to take her time and get things done properly, though of course Riley was a bit more spartan in her explanation and simply said Jacy couldn’t get the job done in the time allotted. Jacy took the opportunity to step lively and was gone from the engine room and poking around in the galley in no time at all. She was mumbling under her breath, something about just filtering out the impurities and having already done the shopping.

She hadn’t heard Keller come through and only stopped what she was doing and stood up straight in time to see him leaving. She bit her lip and sighed, close call. But Keller turned around and came back, shit she was busted. Then Keller was confusing her for one of the passengers and she realized she’d been batting her eyes at him this entire time. He smelled like booze, but there wasn’t much chance of collision out in space and Riley claimed to be the real pilot so Jacy counted her blessings. By the end of the conversation she was still counting; somehow her room had been upgraded and it hadn’t even taken any fast talking or hollow promises on her part. The captain stumbled away to the bridge and Jacy looked around the empty room. What the frak had just happened? Now she’d have to pretend to be a passenger for the Captain, while pretending to be a deckhand to Riley Thorne all while avoiding the unnecessary rigors of hard work. Hey maybe now she could actually hide out in her own quarters.

~~~

Getting her luggage back out of the crew sling and up into the walkway was tricky but she knew there was no one she could ask for help. Too bad she’d given Marcus the slip so soon. Ah, poor Marcus, he really did seem like a nice kid. She was completely out of his league, but that wasn’t really his fault. Once again she wouldn’t have time to unpack as she was expected to be front and center for departure, but when she found the time to unpack at least it would be in quarters with enough room to jump. She closed the hatch behind her (still no lock, but at least it was some privacy) and moved along to the ….

.... Crap what part of the ship was this?
Teleport Lair

**NOTE, UNAVAILABLE UNTIL 9TH LEVEL NPC CASTING IS AVAILABLE**

**School:** Conjuration (Teleportation);

**Level:** Sor/Wiz 9, Witch 9

**Casting Time:** 12 hours

**Components:** V, S, F (cubic gate)

**Range:** None

**Area:** Up to 200 sq. ft./level (S)

**Duration:** Instantaneous

**Saving Throw:** None; Spell Resistance: No

You transport yourself and an area chosen by you (and everything in that area) to another location that you have physically visited. The destination must be somehow befitting of the locale moved. Thus, if a dragon’s lair is a system of caves built into a cliff side, you can shift the lair to another set of cliffs nearby, on another continent, or on another plane. The spell then creates the space needed for the shift (magically and instantly digging out new caves in the new cliff wall that conform to the original caves) and fills in the space left behind (the old caves at the original location are filled in with natural stone). The lair conforms as well as possible to the new site. Conforming may include shifting the layout, size, and entrance of a location slightly (subject to GM adjudication). If it fit within the spell’s area, a whole building could be transported to a new location. You could also move only a few rooms, making them into their own separate structure at the destination or attaching them onto an existing structure. They could even replace rooms in an extant structure. You transport the environment as well, so when shifting a castle underwater, the castle does not fill with water; if you transport it into the heart of a volcano, the interior of the castle retains its normal temperature. As the duration is instantaneous, these effects remain (e.g. a castle room teleported into the heart of a volcano remains comfortable).
Didn't See That Coming...

Though it’s never spoken of in the general store serials or biographies, one of the most important skills employed by a gunslinger is his or her power of observation. Take the captain, for instance. At the moment, the man was positively bellicose, hurling threats and profanities as he sought to work out a solution to the new crisis dumped at his feet. Keller’s hands were on his hips, a subtle move intended to call out the pistol on his belt. Yet, despite his anger, the man’s posture belied his disinclination to pull the weapon. It was the little tells in his behavior that indicated to Dorian a more judicious hand, seasoned by time and experience. Keller might not present as the sharpest *gongju* in the shed, but neither was the man a fool.

For a gunslinger, another obvious signal of an impending draw is the dip of a person’s shoulder. Though sometimes preceded by a widening of the eyes in amateurs, the control of one’s posture to avoid this overt signal was a talent possessed by only the shrewdest guns in the black. McComb had taught him. Though Dorian was grateful for the tutelage, he’d still resolved to kill the man if they ever met again.

The stranger at the table didn’t have this skill. Dorian only knew him by the head laceration and swollen eye he’d presented in the medical bay. But now he took in the hot headed nature, and the hand resting upon the butt of his pistol. He was still seated at the table, a momentary encumbrance if he did choose the draw.

Unarmed except for his knife, Adler chose another approach. He casually retook his seat, a hand grasping the whiskey bottle as if to pour. Should the passionate stranger actually try to pull the gun, a sudden blow from the bottle would put him off his balance long enough for Dorian to persuade him with the knife…

Gill: *“Haddie! No!”*

For all his high toned experience, Dorian had completely missed the little girl. He gaped, frozen and uncomprehending as the screwdriver plunged into the crate. At once, the room seemed to explode into motion. Dorian was aware of others closing on the child as he leapt forward, arms stretched to stop another blow finding its’ target.
If I Knew You Were Coming.... (Day 2, Early Morning)

*He approached the back door and wrapped a fist up against it twice. He kept a smile on his face, but he’d wouldn’t count himself so stupid that he didn’t have a hand on his knife as well.*

From behind was heard the distinctive click of the hammer, and the high pitched whine of a target scan. "Tha rifle," Adler's voice broke the dawn. "Kindly drop it. Yah knife also, please. Now let's see yah hands."

Dorian stood some ten paces off, pistol leveled at his hip. When the shooting started, he'd managed only his boots and coat before slipping into the trees. He sized the hunter, and noted the lifeless wolves at his door. "Food fah thought," he observed. "Many bettah ways tah make a man's acquaintance than shootin' animals outside his door at..." he paused to check his pocket watch..."five o'clock in tha mornin'."
Day one Late evening - So much for sleep

Thomas finally finished washing up and was sitting in his cabin figuring out his game plan for the next day. He figured that mounting the second exchanger then replacing the sensors would be his priorities. Pulling the valve covers and cleaning the intakes, pistons and valves would be step 2.

*Dammit! With the constant interruptions, the fight and lack of supplies, the disorganization and filth of the engine room, I never had a chance to do a full inspection. I hope there is no internal damage. This ship is so disorganized I'm surprised it still runs.*

Totally pissed at himself for not thinking clearly, he then ran down the rest of the repairs that needed to be done. After replacing the valve covers, he would start the oil exchange while he connected the heat exchangers. Then the external sensors and valves would be replaced. His mind went back to the valves again and he knew he wouldn't get any sleep worrying about those valves.

*Sleep will have to come at a much later time, coffee and lots of it will be needed now.* Thomas got up, dressed in his coveralls and was about to step out when he looked at his gun belt. *Yeah, too much happening around here.* He took his gun and a shoulder holster he had and put them on under his coveralls. He wasn't going to be surprised by any more visitors.

Walking out he headed towards the galley when a man came walking past and headed towards the guest rooms. *Another crew or passenger, never know around here.* He made it to the galley and found it full of people.

"Seems like no one can sleep tonight". He went to the coffee pot and poured a hot cup for himself and noticed it was the last cup. He rinsed out the pot and started making another pot.

"Hope you all will excuse this next pot but, I need to make it extra strong, long night ahead." He then noticed the LT. sitting among the others. "I'm going to work through the night LT, and barring any problems, I'm hoping we will be able to launch about noon tomorrow. About 8 hours ahead of my previous estimate." He turned back to the cabinets and started to make himself a snack and look for a thermos to fill with the potent coffee he was making.
Day 2 Morning - Some Head

The place had cleared and she'd downed her stew, might tasty stew, too. Lyen had rote the acute lesson of learning to love what one is dealt. Life for a young nun in the Verse wasn't forgiving, or all that friendly in the least. Most often any lot she fell in with would hate the sight of her by some point. The lonely trail of stardust and sterling good vibes had loosened this young monk's clenched fingers around the strict structure of life and serenity in favor of a more subtle approach.

If she had her druthers, the way of the Verse would be apparent to all--goodness, gentleness, self-control among them. Most folks didn't like being chided, herself included especially in those younger days when she was still adapting to the monastery. And so, she learned a thing or two about being just about fifty-fifty person and spirit; spirit in the teaching, person in the preaching, all in consideration of meeting most where they were at the moment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Awakening to the thrumming of a busy crew, she too took inventory of where her story had taken her. Still in bed she tried to shed the slipping feeling she felt stepping aboard the Lunar Veil. Her tale was more of an upward trajectory, far from any rectory or temple, toward stars and she'd told herself that bars and drug-dens were appended to her story no longer; she could be stronger, would be stronger.

The coffee swirled counter-clockwise in her cup, and up 'til now she had sat still loath to fill a role on this ship but this was it: the time to finally grow. Ly's face turned toward the Captain as he filled up his mug, but he was gone with a shrug with better things to do. One other man seemed to be present, silently nursing his own drink. Ly studied the man from behind to see if she could suss the sort of man he was, a game she played with her higher power. And so she studied, watching and comfortably sipping her brew while watching the back of a stranger's head.
Drinks and a show

Dimitri stood quietly as he saw unsettling images of surgery.

He was builder, he used to seeing inner workings, but humans were gross. Leaky, wet, slimey, and fragile. He had overheard the severity of operation and decided, hold off on drink. He raise silent glass in hall to doctor.
"davay nadeyat'sya, chto vy zhivete piksis"

He stood, waiting. As impromptu surgeons made way out he pressed glasses into hands
"How is doctor? I take drink? You have drink. Hard work you, vas, and Li-on"
He smile as he passes drink.
He looked at faces, unsure to take glorious Amber liquid. He realize and explain
"This is Kvass, glorious drink of motherland, you like, no?"
[Tag Lyen and Vas>>>>>>>>

He peeked head in door while issuing light tap.

"Doctor, if you don't mind, how bout that drink? Night cap, I believe it called"
Facing Vas (Day 3 -Late Morning)

The dryer was easier to figure out than she’d thought. Someone had anticipated unskilled labor like herself using it and pictograms suggesting heat levels and time coexisted with the words and numbers other folk used and took for granted. Someone had left a load of sheets in their so she blocked the hatch from the inside, stripped down to her all together, and folded them while she waited. Elle thought she could kind of get used to the feel of hot clothes going on her body. It was like they’d been hung in the rigging down by the ‘quator only without salt spray scratchiness. At least some good had come out of this whole thing.

Outside the hatch to Vas’ cabin she took a deep breath and felt the last bit of Roose’s dinner in her belly try to chuckle up her throat. At least - at least this time she’d see it coming and be able to roll with it.

Two flat palm slaps, intentionally firm, rang out “Chief. Doc said to come see you,” the deckhand said through the still closed hatch.

Vas was not quite able to tell who it was through the hand with a sigh, walked over to pull it open. Honestly you would think news about him CTQ would have spread by now.

"Oh." He said lookup seeing Elle. "Go report to Serena. She'll assign you your chores." He said from the bottom of the ladder.

That puzzled her. Vas had been so hands on, so insistent about being in charge and running things through him. It was kind of what started this whole mess, wasn’t it? Elle stared at him for a moment, trying to process it.

“Am I supposed to tell her what you said to tell you or just do what she says and still come tell you what you said to tell you.”

Vas looked up unimpressed with her tongue twister. "Elle … it ain't complicated. Go to Serena. Ask what needs doing. Do it. Since it ain't obvious to you I am CTQ so that means for now you report to Serena." Vas said spelling out the situation.

“Don’t know what that means,” she said. “CTQ,” the letters coming out slowly as if she had to think about them. The rest of it she understood very well. Serena was Vas’ right hand though Elle didn’t think that was the body part he liked using best with the cute little teen. And she noticed he didn’t give a darn about if she was okay or not, didn’t even ask. Oh he did when there was an audience, when someone who needed to see him being all caring and such but that was just for show.

"CTQ. Confined to Quarters." Vas explained patiently.

Huh, well wasn’t that something. Elle wanted to know why but not enough to push it or prolong her time in front of Vas. Besides, it wasn’t like Serena couldn’t not talk about it; Elle would know soon enough why Vas was restricted. Couldn’t be anything too serious since no one was guarding him and the Crew Chief controlled his own hatch opening and shutting.

“Okay, Chief.” And - that was all that needed to be done she supposed and turned to go find the never silent Serena.
Help

Gill left the door ajar and ran down the corridor heedless of the Alliance threat. He stopped short as several of the uniformed intruders were gathered near the cargo bay ahead of him. He stood there his heart racing. In his desperation he considered handing himself over. Whatever happened at least they would get Haddie help.

But then they were leaving. All walking away and leaving the vessel he realised. Thank the verse. He crept forward wary at first and then broke into a headlong dash through the ship looking for help.

It was Vas and the passanger Lyen he came to first and he almost bowled the two over in his mad dash towards them.

"It's Haddie," he blurted out, struggling for breath. "Riley gave us a pill to keep us calm and she took the whole thing. Her nose is bleeding and she is shaking... I set her down in Jacys quarters, the Alliance had already had already searched there and... help please." He half screamed.
Keep Flying

Riley clasped the pin in her hand. Understanding the decision and liking the decision were two different things, but ultimately it was something she had to accept was for the best. The Alliance had them on a short leash, being on the ship could jeopardize everyone. Her own feelings could be sorted out later, and, as her old commander used to say - Emotions don’t lead ships, but they can lead to their ruin. She appreciated what they were doing, even if she was too stubborn to say so. Time to let the troops know. “Jat!” She called, setting the pin down and heading down the galley stairs.

Familiar boots marched up the stairs from the cargo bay to the Galley. “Yes, Lieutenant?” The punk said presenting himself to the acting Captain.

“Chavez…” She paused for the briefest of moments, “And Adler won’t be taking off with us. They left Greenleaf on the Mariposa about an hour ago. I don’t plan on making an announcement just yet. I’d like everyone to enjoy the remainder of their time on Greenleaf. They’ll be missed -- by everyone. You can let the deck’s know before we lift off, the only other person I’m going to tell is Sister Lyen. I may need her to assist in the med bay, plus I think it’d be best if she heard it before everyone else. Just so you know we’ll need Valari., I may need you to fly. We have a good shot of finding a mechanic for cheap on High Gate, lots of people will be looking to get out. Any questions? -- Let me rephrase. Any questions that don’t involve the word ‘why?’“

Vas tried not to bristle at the news. After what happened back on Beaumont and then on New Melbourne he knew it had just been a matter of time. He knew there were things happening he had not been privy to. He knew now he had been lied to, used. His friendship with Adler had been nothing but manipulation. Disappointment was too pale of a word for how he felt. “No Lieutenant. It may be for the best and I think the further we put it behind us the better.” Vas stated in a cold tone. The Lieutenant didn’t need his emotional baggage. He could with that on his own time. There was work to be done right now.

“Good. I expect morale to take another hit, but I’m sure you'll handle it when we hit the black. I’ll look for Sister Lyen in the morning, but for now, get some sleep, Jat.”

“I will. I’ll fix up the schedule to accommodate the change. Have a good night Lieutenant.” Vas said.

Once alone, the lieutenant took the pin Adler had gifted her back out of her pocket and headed back up to the bridge. Despite Jat's wishes for a good night, there was work to be done, reports to be made, hearts to be broken and friendships to miss.
Home is where the Haddie is...

Gill was drifting in and out of consciousness. He could see a sea of familiar faces surrounding him. They moved in and out of focus and their voices intermingled in a cacophony of whispered sound that was both confusing and soothing at the same time.

*"In a ‘Verse full of pain

May we be relief."*

The words found him in the darkness. They pierced the shroud that smothered his senses and caused him to stir. There was pain beyond the darkness, he knew that. Here in the shadows of his dreams he could hide from the healing that must come.

*"In a ‘Verse filled with suffering,

Let there be enlightenment."*

Feelings. Sensations began to trickle back, like the first eager fingers of a new born spring. There was pain yes, but it was still a distant, dull thing. He tried to move and found his leg restrained. The sharp pull of healing flesh caused him to grow still and he gasped lightly as a white hot spark of agony brought him the rest of the way round. He had not noticed until then that someone had been holding his hand. It was the release of pressure and the sudden removal of the others warmth from his skin that told him that his hand had been released. He stretched his fingers willing for that comforting touch to return. To drive away the pain.

*"May we be the salve,

To all beings in the ‘Verse.”*

He was as weak as a kitten. Even the effort of opening his eyes was too much. It seemed at one point like he was ready to surface. His lids flickered for a moment letting in a smudge of harsh light and then... nothing. He slept once more.

When he came round again much later it was to find Lyen there. She was dressing the wound on his leg. Groggily he rubbed sleep from his eyes and yawned, then winced. The pain was back again and he looked down to see his leg bound and suspended above the sheets. Lyen looked up offering a warm smile.

"Gill, I'm just finishing up. But after this, how about I bring you some breakfast, hmm?"

The door opened then and for the first time Gill realised he was not in his own room. The Doc was here and... wait this was the Docs room.

“Good mornin’ Miss Haddie,” Dorian greeted his sister as she cautiously crept in. “Let’s have a look at yah leg. C’mon…hop on up.”

Gill listened to the man talk to Haddie and Lyen. There was something strange about the way he and the nun spoke to each other. Something different. A stiffness. He wondered if they had fallen out. Adults did that all the time. He shrugged off the concern. They would work it out.

Haddie was by his side now. She reached out and gripped his arm. He gave her his bravest smile and she returned the geasture. Everything would be alright now.

They were home.
Leaving the LV? - Pt 4

Thomas was almost at the ship. He stood inside a doorway halfway down an alley just across from the ship. He was thinking over his options when he spotted a fellow gambler who owed him money.

"Markel. Over here"

Markel was in his mid 40's and a veteran Browncoat. He hated the Alliance with a passion so he knew he could be trusted. Markel glanced in Thomas' direction, then bent down to retie his shoe. This of course was a ploy to see if he was being watched.

Coming down the alley then into the doorway. "Thomas, you know your a wanted man right? The Alliance is showing your picture everywhere and asking almost everyone. Luckily, the Alliance isn't well liked around here so there isn't much luck."

"Why are they looking for me? I haven't broken any laws" He knew that was a lie, he had just killed his best friend.

"Apparently, the Alliance has a list of engineers that they are pressing into service for some kind of special project. Your name is on the list due to the investigation of the Carmilla. I thought you were cleared of that? Anyways, they are watching every ship on the planet and seeing who boards and who leaves. You are not going to be able to leave this planet my friend."

"I was cleared and I will leave. " Thomas thought for several minutes then cam eup with an idea. "You owe me a large amount of money, about 400 coin I believe it was, well I will wipe the slate clear if you do as I say."

An hour later, Markel is wheeling a crate towards the LV and stops at the loading bay doors. "Excuse me, I would like to pay for this to be delivered, who would I talk to about that?"
How did we survive

Thomas helped gather everyone at the breach of the ship where their line was attached. After getting everyone there, Thomas ran back to engineering, and opened up the main control panel. He disabled the distress becon, and shut down most power to conserve fuel. After he was satisfied, he went back.

Captain, I disabled the distress beacon and powered down almost all systems to conserve fuel and power. If we want to come back for salvage hopefully no one will know where to find her. If you want to take it with us, she is ready to be towed but, I'm not 100% sure on towing connections and I'm sure our deck twit has no clue so...Thomas left it hanging for the Captain to make the decision.

After connecting a tether line to everyone, Thomas made his way across to the L-V. Knowing there were no transmission response to the Captains calls, Thomas entered with his gun drawn. Seeing no one in the Cargo area, Thomas connected the line to the reel and activated it on slow. He looked out and saw that everyone was coming across safely and as soon as everyone was on board, he closed the outer door and pressurized the compartment.

As soon as pressure and oxygen levels were up, he quickly removed his suit.
Cap, not sure where our pilot is but, I'm going to check just to be sure no one came across while we were inside.
Grabbing his weapon, he went out to search the ship.

After clearing Engineering, Thomas made is way forward when he heard voices. Coming up to the Galley, Thomas stepped in with his gun drawn and saw 2 kids he doesn't remember seeing sitting in chairs with hands tied eating sandwiches.

Oh, great. Bad enough we have two survivors were bringing over but, now 2 stowaways. Cap is going to be in an even worse mood. Nothing of value found on the ship and our deckhand is high on drugs.
Home Again, Home Again

The Captain tossed one of the suits to Aello, who thankfully could dress herself, and his mind instantly wandered to undressing being a different story, but he quickly snapped back to reality. Instead, He shoved the legs of the boy into the suit, followed by his arms while the boy drifted in and out of consciousness talking about noodles and pork. He looked to Devron, the only crew member thus far that was of any use.

"When we get back to the ship..." He said, zipping up the boy's suit. "I'm gonna owe you a drink for this." He secured an oxygen mask and tank, then pulled the hood of the suit over the boy's head. So far so good.

Using large zip ties, he secured the boy's hands and feet in case he came to, binding his wrists in front of him. . He did the same to Aello, explaining it weren't nothing personal, but if she wanted aboard his ship, it was his rules. La-Loyd was secured also because at the time she was acting all moon-brained, trying to pet his helmet while commenting on its size. The zip ties were secured to the tether between the Clover and the L-V, and Keller slapped Devron on the shoulder, indicating he should be first out to the ship. Keller would make sure the bitter end of the line was secure, so their cargo, as well as the kid who tried to shoot him, the woman who went and drugged one of his crew, and the one member of his crew he considered as useful as tits on a bull. He smiled to himself as he pictured them floating away into space as he waved bye-bye... but he also knew murder wasn't his style.

Devron led with his booster, and when he reached the ship, took the job of the deckhand, winding the tether around the reel to bring the line in.

"I'm faaaaallllllling, No! I'm leaping!" La-Loyd screamed out. "Grand jeté! Saut de chat! Grand Pas de Chat!" She was making less sense than usual.

"Pipe down, moon brain." Keller said into his com, wishing he could've turned it off. "Thorne, we're coming in, and we've got visitors. " There was no reply from the other end of the ship. "Thorne?" Keller swore in Chinese under his breath. "Of all the times to go and take a powder... this whole ship is going to get a stern talking to."
Dropping like Flies

"I do not know this person." Vas stated pointing the Dillon. "Cap, don't you think you might be overreacting... I mean they can't be that much trouble." He said trying to calm things down. He doubted they even held serious rank but he couldn't exactly SAY that without questions being raised on his intimate knowledge of gangs.

"If they bother coming I am sure we could ..." Vas stopped and turned after he heard the familer sound of a body hitting the floor. "... Gorram it." There went his argument. The two kids showed back up looking like a canabal and the other out cold on the floor.
"What in the nine hells happened to you two?!" Vas said running over to check on the floored kid first.
Jacy in a chariot - To the rescue

Jacy was having a hard time keeping her thoughts grounded. This strange woman who attacked her didn’t seem to want her dead, but she was clearly not prepared to put herself at the mercy of her rescuers either. There was a conflicted nature about the new woman and Jacy wished she could keep her own mind focused enough to pinpoint what should have been obvious. Aello was either trying to rectify her mistake and rescue Jacy or she was trying to kidnap and use her as bargaining leverage. One or the other, Jacy was finally wrestled into the chair and once seated found it quite relaxing. She was being used as a human shield on wheels, but the hallucinogenic compound she’d been dosed with was letting her imagination take over in unsettling ways. She wasn’t prone to pessimism or twisted thoughts so her trip had all the makings of a pleasant experience. As the internal comm chatter from Captain Keller & Devron piped into her earpiece she saw their little faces speaking to her, only they were caricatures of themselves. The Captain’s still wore his Stetson, but little else and Devron’s had a black eye and scuffs across his face. Okay, that wasn’t very far from how he currently looked.

*<<Dammit, Jacy! Where are you? Get your butt up here now!>>*

Jacy swatted Aello’s hands away playfully and reached up into the air to pet Devron’s disembodied head. Fortunately the mic in her helmet was voice activated and she responded in a dreamy tone, “La-La here. I’ve been attacked in the medbay, but it might be okay. I’ll try to convince her to wheely me up to the bow of the ship. That’s the front end, lady. Tell my Captain that I may be under the influence of whatever drug this woman stabbed me with. She patched up my suit alright, but it looks funny; like a big cancerous outy on the side of my stomach. Tell my Captain that’s not how my stomach normally looks, he’d probably want to know that. If you’d still like to be rescued lady let’s get a move on. I’m starting to feel moderately spaced out.