PT1: Better Lucky Than Good.

[Mattie Rooney]

Mattie let Tara explain the situation uninterrupted. As the big picture became clearer, she found herself growing... tired. So, they were basically being dragged into Drogo's personal drama. She wondered when they'd get through a job without something getting in the way. If it wasn't an ambush or another ship literally crashing into them, it was a dick-measuring contest.

"Lucky's message was sent from Persephone, wasn't it?" she asked. He'd used a public terminal, so the location hadn't been encrypted. "D'you reckon that's where we'll still find him?"

Then, after a brief moment's consideration:

"This so-called... 'Big Al'-" Mattie cringed at the nickname. What was it with these guys and posturing? "This Siegfrid fella, how bad of a guy is he? I don't reckon he's going to be wining and dining his hostage, but you know... would he settle for roughin' him up a little, or is he into cutting off limbs and such?"

Basically, she wanted to know how much torture Lucky was in for if they dragged their feet.

[Cyril Leland Wade]

IN THE NOT-TOO-DISTANT FUTURE
Somewhere on Eavesdown Docks

"I keep tellin' ya!" Lucky exclaimed with great frustration."I don't know Tara Mark. You've got the wrong guy. I'm sure she's a real biao-zi, but I do not know who she is so can you please stop hitting me in the face!"

The guy hit him in the face again.

Lucky groaned, partly from the pain, but it came out more like a groan of annoyance than anything else.

"I've got a job interview tomorrow," he lamented.

"Alright," Baddie no. 1 growled. Apparently he was growing as frustrated at Lucky was. "If you won't tell us about Marx, how about you tell us about this guy! Who is this? How is he connected?"

The baddie grabbed the hair of Nick Bradshaw, who was also bound to a chair, so that he pulled his head up to face Lucky.

Exasperated, Lucky shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. I don't know," he attested in his whining drawn-out accent. He looked on the verge of a break-down. He shook his shaggy blonde hair and bowed his head. It almost seemed like he was going to cry...

"Oh, oh!"

Suddenly Lucky seemed very excited. Like a kid in a classroom who'd figured out the difficult math problem and couldn't wait to tell everybody.

"Is HE Tyra Mark?!"

[Tara Marx]

"This so-called... 'Big Al'-" Mattie cringed at the nickname. What was it with these guys and posturing? "This Siegfrid fella, how bad of a guy is he? I don't reckon he's going to be wining and dining his hostage, but you know... would he settle for roughin' him up a little, or is he into cutting off limbs and such?"

Tara spoke right up..."Oh no he's not the type for cutting people up, but he has other ways of torture that could be considered far worse." Tara set her coffee aside and once began working on the cortex device. "Have you ever heard about Virtual Cruciation?" She typed away..."If it's set up right they can kill you over and over again and never get their hands dirty, plus it can be done remotely I've heard." Tara continued to blast away at the keypad. "There!" She spouted "Sweet Lucy's.....it's a bar with a PT and Lucky's message tracks right back to it, helps us find him as well as others I'm afraid." Tara pushed the device away. "At least it's a place to start."

[Nick Bradshaw]

IN THE NOT-TOO-DISTANT FUTURE
Somewhere on Eavesdown Docks

Bradshaw had been listening a little.  His head felt fizzy.  Tyra Mark? Tara Marx? The name didn't fire any electrons in his head.  Not a bounty he had heard about.  But then, Nick had been out of the loop somewhat the last few months.  If he got out of here in one piece, maybe he'd look into it.

A hand grabbed Nick by the hair and held him up in front of Lucky.  He was bound to a chair.  Not a great sign.  Nick stayed relaxed.  The idiot being interrogated told the truth, about Nick at least.  Sometimes people panic and make up stories.  This kid hadn't landed him in it, yet.

Well, time to wait this one out, Nick sighed to himself.

[Andes Maley]

Andes noticed the furtive and hushed conversations as well as the change in demeanor of crew and passengers alike. Something was afoot and he did not like not knowing what it was but then again, he was paid to take orders. When people were ready, he would come to him. Until then, he would keep an eye on the passengers, they were a might too twitchy for his liking. He thought a moment of wearing his pistol but that would only spook the nervous, better to see how the cards developed before raising.

[Emerson Bell]

A vague but determined amount of time later on the bridge

Persephone had come into view gleaming like a shining diamond in space that was until they came into orbit and the lesser lights of space craft began to clog the visage.

"Ground control..." this is major Tom "... Requesting permission to dock at these coordinates."  Bell flicked a few buttons transmitting her request and waiting to the sounds of ambient static before a flickered response came.

"This is ground control.  Spaceship... Mischief.  You better not be looking to fulfill your namesake.  You're cleared to land, though you know there are spots on the main pad available."  The joke was dry and without comedic timing so Bell ignored it and focused on the secondary comment.

"Understood but the requested pad is closer to Southdown Abbey.  There's a request from some of the crew seeking religiosity."  She was asked to look casual and not draw attention and assumed the meant from the feds as well.  The Abbey was well known for it's upstanding reputation on Persephone from news she'd been scanning during their flight, who knows maybe there was a religious zealot among the lot.

"Roger.  Proceed landing course." The voice responded clearly no longer interested in this ship and ready to move on to another.

"Copy that."  Bell switched off the outbound comm and hit the internal.

"We'll be dirt side momentarily."  She commented briefly as she focused on her descent.  Weaving through traffic she brought the ship down gently, a wisp of dust briefly clouding up the windshield before clearing and revealing the docks at Eavesdown.

[Tara Marx]

"We'll be dirt side momentarily."

Tara was in her guest quarters when Bell announced they had arrived. She had put off pushing the crew any further and kept her distance from the Carvers as best she could on a Firefly. As Mischief made her final approach to the planet, Tara sorted out what she needed to tell the crew. Once planetside she'd ask the Carver's to gather everyone in the galley for a full briefing and then devise a working plan for finding Lucky.

[Andes Maley]

[his berth]

"We'll be dirt side momentarily." 

Andes knew they were close, he had entered atmo often enough to feel the difference in how the ship moved. What he wasnt used to was the general feel running through Mischief. His original premonition that something was happening only grew as the hours past. And now he was here, in his bunk, preparing to land. Normally, he would meet the bosses at the cargo door with only his daily carry sidearm. This time, however, he felt like he needed both on him.

He finished buckling both his regular and drop holsters and fitted both sidearms into them. Satisfied, he then grabbed his spinning tourniquet, never knew when you needed one of these. Grabbing the first rung of the ladder he was as prepared as he could be for whatever lā shǐ they were in.