PT1: Better Lucky Than Good.

[Rolemancer]

For the last week and a half Mischief's crew worked steadily on her repairs. The parts Ms Marx had promised Captain Carver arrived on time and were quickly dispatched to their appointed places. Tara's additional crew... Gunhand Mattie, even showed up in time to pitch in with the work. Mischief's new crew had coalesced well and now with the overhaul complete, it was now time to get down to business. Mischief broke atmo early morning....destination Santo.

[Tara Marx]

[Galley]

Once the Firefly Transport hit the calm of space Tara could be found in the galley seated at the table. They had a bit of a ride ahead of them so she used it to look over her Datapad. A small cup of steaming tea sat before her as she tapped away on the small device, the soft glow of which highlighted her features in the dimly lit space. After months of planning she or better said, they... were finally at it, a detailed strategy turning to action. Tara's main focus now was sticking to that plan as best she could.


.

[Andes Maley]

Andes has been happy the past few days. He was always happy when he had something to do and there was plenty to do. He was no mechanic but he new the right from wrong end of a wrench and could take directions well enough. When Mischief broke atmo is when it hit him, the boredom. He wouldn't have a whole lot to do and there was a whole lot of black in front of him. Cards would only entertain him for so long. However, there was a whole new crew that could probably entertain him a lot longer.

He climbed the ladder of his room and locked the door behind him, way too many secrets in there and too many unknowns wandering around the ship. We found his way to the mess. He nodded to Tara as he poured himself a cup of coffee which ran out half way up the cup. Andes was a little obsessive about things like that, if you used something up, replace it.  It was how he was raised. He busied himself freshening the pot and spoke to Tara, "What do you think, beard or no?" He had about a week's growth, just at the point between itchy and almost there. He would be happy to get rid of the constant distraction or too ride out a couple more days. Absentmindedly, his free hand strayed to his jaw and scratched.

[Mattie Rooney]

Mattie was nodding off in her bunk. As her mind slipped into that dim space between wakefulness and sleep, she found herself back on Lilac, as she often did, with fragments of real memories mingling with things that could have been, but never had the chance.

She didn't want to put on the wedding dress. It hung before her, off-white in color and ugly as sin. A family heirloom you were supposed to like simply because it had been passed off from one generation to the next, like a hereditary disease.

"It was your grandmother's", her mother said. "She would've wanted you to wear it."

That ain't right, Mattie thought. Not Grandma Tilda, who'd held her on her lap and told her she was too spirited to be stuck on this godforsaken planet of ri shao gou shi bing, too brave. Grandma Tilda, who'd always held out hope that there was be something better out there for her children, or if not them, then her children's children at the very least.

No. Grandma Tilda wouldn't have wanted Mattie to wear the dress, and she refused to put it on. It was hideous. All lace and ribbons frills and ruffles and buttons and bows and murdered dreams and the smell of rotting flesh –

Mattie was yanked awake by the "incoming message" chime on her datapad. She was grateful that her impending nightmare had been cut so short, and her spirits were lifted even further – perhaps more than she would've liked to admit – by the sight of Lucky's familiar face on the screen.

However, her sort-of-smile quickly turned into a frown. What was up with this godawful background? Was he trying to piss her off? It was working. But the hearts and roses were nothing compared to the message itself, which was bizarre and completely confounding, not to mention a little disturbing. The closing words were undoubtedly the worst part:

"...I love you."

Click. End message.

Mattie sat for a moment in stunned silence. What in the 'Verse had she just watched? Of course she wasn't stupid enough to think Lucky was seriously confessing his love for her, that thought was easy enough to dismiss. No, even if she thought a goober like Lucky could ever fall for her, the wording didn't make any sense. What was he sorry about? They'd parted ways in perfectly friendly terms.

She played the message back again, trying to make sense of it all. What woman? What marks? Maybe Lucky was playing a practical joke on her. It wouldn't be the first time he'd be trying to ruffle her feathers, and the backdrop certainly seemed like it was designed to annoy her. But that wasn't it, either. Her gut was telling her something was off.

She smelled... trouble. Yes, that was it. She didn't know where or how, but Lucky was in trouble.

There was alarm, of course, but it was accompanied by another feeling, a very inappropriate feeling that was almost warm and fuzzy, a kind of... fond nostalgia?

Oh, Ducky, what've you've gotten yourself into?

---

Moments later, Mattie stomped into the galley with a serious look on her face, and made a beeline for Tara.

"Marx, it's Lucky, I think he's-" she stopped when she noticed Andes. She wondered briefly if his presence was a liability, but then figured that if Lucky was indeed in need of rescuing, the crew of Mischief was bound to find out about it sooner or later. She nodded at the gunhand, more a passing acknowledgment than a proper greeting, and turned her attention back to Tara.

"You better take a look for yourself," she said, handing her the datapad. She reckoned that if there was some kind of a secret message hidden between the lines of Lucky's lover's lament, Tara could probably de-code it.

[Emerson Bell]

It was a lot of work and she knew the work wasn't done.  A lot of the repairs would require circling back to in a few months and other things would break down but for now it was time to fly.  For the first time since arriving she felt some level of comfort on the ship, still not sleeping well but getting by.  Even the mall cop wasn't watching her with as much suspicion, she suspected he trusted her as much as she trusted him and really couldn't blame him she wasn't a people pleaser she walked soft and carried a big gun but as long as the pay was there she'd keep them flying.

It was peaceful on the bridge just the quiet whirs and beeps of the machinery to provide ambiance and the lights low so she could focus on the beautiful black ahead of her.  She'd been at it a few hours now and once they got past the rush hour traffic of the planet into the calm of the open pastures of the black she set it to auto-pilot so she could get some work in.  Rolling out her mat behind the pilots seat she stretched out and began her routine starting out with some mountain climbers, bicycles before getting into some push ups.  It was going to be nice getting back into her routine.

[Addison Michael Carver]

Light footsteps slapped across metal grates as Michael made his way to the bridge. He paused slightly before the archway as he noted no pilot at the helm, counter to his expectations. Then a few thuds and rustles from Tara's workout drew his attention. He stepped in.

"Ah," he spoke, now understanding the situation. "Excuse me Miss Bell, I didn't mean to interrupt. I just have quite the fancy for checking on the bridge. I figure if the ship is being steered in the right direction everything else will surely fall in line." That was a slight slither of truth from a man who wasted most his words keeping up appearances.

"But I'm sure there's no cause for concern. Why taking the controls out of my hands has already tripled our life expectancy." He smiled at the light self-deprecation.

"Find yourself a little too restless to stay in the pilots seat though?" Her workout seemed at odds with the pleasant and lazy opportunity of being seated all day.

[Emerson Bell]

Em was just finishing a few sets of crunches as the co-captain stepped into the room, she finished her set as he spoke before getting to her feet and pulling the towel off of the back of the pilots seat she wiped sweat from her brow.  He questioned her on not being at the helm and being new she was uncertain whether he was questioning her commitment, making a suggestion she should be working or just genuinely curious.

"Well sir we've moved past all major trajectories, I've mapped us a course that will take us straight for several hundred kilometers.  The detection system if functioning correctly as my preliminary tests indicate it is we'll be alerted well in advance if anything that needs manual piloting comes up."  She spoke as she moved to the console on the wall and pulled up the route she'd put together.

"Based on the intel and taking into account fuel efficiency and comparing that against known sectors of pirate activity I feel taking this path."  Her hand ran along a straight line on the map.

"Then making a slight adjustment left, which will take us through some bumpy space but ultimately meet our need for travel and fuel efficiency and only be slightly out of the way of a more direct route.  I've pulled up the Alliance reports on our most likely danger zones of being hijacked if you'd like to read them sir."  She finished her briefing and stiffened into her soldiers posture breathing heavy as her sweat-glistened skin began to chill from the lack of movement.  Feeling she still had to explain herself some more she continued.

"I hope it's alright I work out up here.  I have trouble sleeping since the war, which I'm sure the Doctor is aware of from my files I left with her.  Keeping a routine of exercise helps me deal with some... stuff and keeps me alert."  Not to mention she could only stare at endless black for so long when there was nothing to navigate around.

[Tara Marx]

[GALLEY]

Tara pushed the device aside to rest her eyes for a moment. While she sipped her tea Andes entered heading straight for the coffee. She acknowledged his nod of greeting in like kind as she turned slightly to watch him fiddle with the pot.

"What do you think, beard or no?" He asked while pawing at his chin.

Tara gave his face a good hard stare as she took another sip of tea and for the first time noticing his rugged good looks.
"I like it!" She announced before abruptly turning back to her work. Tara had just begun to tap away once more at the accessory when Mattie rushed in.

"Marx, it's Lucky, I think he's-" she stopped when she noticed Andes."You better take a look for yourself." she said, handing her the datapad.

Tara watched the message, a message only Lucky could send. Maley not too far away could easily over hear the transmission.

------------------------

"Mattie," Lucky greeted her with a sigh, a kind of lover's sigh.
"I know it's been a while, and given how things ended between us it's a risk me calling you like this... I need you - to forgive me. That woman... she's left a lot of marks on a lot of guys... That's no excuse for what I did, of course. I just hope you can understand. I'm betting you're still in touch with her... Maybe you should get together with her and share some stories of how much of a huhn dahn I am. Anyway, I just wanted to say I'm sorry. Especially, I'm sorry for that time I took your eaves down without asking. It's a silly thing, but I shouldn't have done that. Anyway. I have to run. I just hope you can understand.
Ta-ra for now. There was a pause of several seconds before the last, heartfelt --"I love you."

---------------------------

"Mi Tian Gohn!" Tara exclaimed. "He's in trouble Mattie, they must be on to him. They could even have him by now....how old is this dispatch?" Tara asked while she checked the screen for some sort of time stamp.

[Addison Michael Carver]

[BRIDGE]

"Well if your aim is to impress then it is certainly working. Why I think I even understood half of what you're telling me. But I admire your... meticulous nature." Emerson's commitment to the cause appeared above and beyond, and that was the makings of a crew member he was very glad do have aboard. "Thank you Miss Bell. It puts me at ease to know the ship has such good guidance."

"Speaking of 'at ease,' you needn't worry about making the most of your downtime. I know well that the wonder of the black through that screen dies down after a while. Feel free to... keep busy." He indicated the mat on the floor.

"Also. If you're having trouble sleeping there are numerous items I could procure for you. There was a time when the medical world was my prime profession and I still maintain a few connections." Some were even legal, not that such information needed to be shared. "I wouldn't want you to feel drained or overworked if it could be helped."

[Andes Maley]

[GALLEY]

The topic of conversation in the mess changed so quickly that Andes did not have time to respond. Sounded like the passengers were having some type of internal drama. "I will leave you two to it." He palmed the mug of coffee, steam tickling at his hand, and made his way to the rear of the mess. "Thanks for the feedback." He noted as he stepped onto the catwalk leading to the cargo area.

[Cyril Leland Wade]

Eavesdown Docks

Lucky stepped out of the public cortex booth with a pang of guilt. He'd needed to make the message convincing... He had no doubt in his mind now that he was being closely watched. He needed help but he couldn't risk a direct message to Tara - and if he messaged Mattie with a straight up request for help then that would dob Mattie into trouble too. So he needed to make the message seem like the desperate last call to a lover of a man who had no-one to turn to for help. But that last 'I love you'... It sat awkwardly with him now. Sure, it was all part of the rouse to cover his pi-goh and protect her too but even so, he had just told Mattie that he loved her. That might have been a step too far.

"She's gonna make me pay for that, for sure," he muttered to himself with a cheerful grin he did not feel.

A heavy hand clamped down on his shoulder.

[Mattie Rooney]

As expected, Tara had seen right through the smokescreen of Lucky's lovestruck ramblings, but her reaction surprised Mattie. It wasn't the tentative suspicion she'd anticipated, but recognition followed by outright alarm.

"Mi Tian Gohn! He's in trouble Mattie, they must be on to him. They could even have him by now....how old is this dispatch?"

Mattie furrowed her brow ever so slightly. These weren't the words of someone who was just as puzzled as she was – Tara knew what was going on. And Mattie quickly decided it was her prerogative to get in on the scoop as well.

"It came through less than fifteen minutes ago," she responded, pulling up a chair next to Tara and having a seat. She didn't respond to or look at Andes as he took his leave, but she was happy to be left alone with her captain. Simpler that way. Easier to get straight to the point.

"So," she said once Andes was out of earshot. "Who's 'they'?"

[Tara Marx]

"Who's 'they'?" Mattie asked.

Tara waited to answer her question a minute or two as she was thinking to herself, she didn't even notice Andes exit the room.
Tara began tapping away at the compact Cortex device before her...."Well 'they' could be several people I'm afraid to say....but I think I can narrow it down to at least one or two that are the most probable." She had stopped typing by now and watched the screen as several captures flashed in an answer to her inquiries. "We need to go get Lucky, he has vital intel that we require." Tara jumped to her feet and headed for the ship comm that was near the galley entrance. "Captain....Tara here, I need to speak with you ASAP." On the screen back at the table a capture was left displayed....the name that accompanied the face was Alberich Siegfried.

[Cyril Leland Wade]

Eavesdown docks; a dingy bar

Lucky felt the heavy hand clamp down on his shoulder and he knew his time had run out. He knew these guys were Siegfried's men and he knew they'd been tracking him the last few days as Lucky had made his enquiries for Tara. He wasn't quite sure how much they knew though so maybe he'd be able to talk his way out of any trouble for now.

He turned his head over his shoulder to look at the gangly face of the man with the vice-like grip. There were a couple more beside him.

"Howdy pard'ner," Lucky greeted him in his best country-bumpkin voice. "Somethin' I can do for -"

A man appeared in front of Lucky and decked him, hard.

So... no talking his way out of this one, then.

[Nick Bradshaw]

Eavesdown docks; a dingy bar

Nick Bradshaw's curly brown hair gently shivered as other patrons of the first bar he could find moved past.  The whiskey was fine.  All three legs of his barstool were the same length and there was no old-timey or young, hip music playing so he couldn't complain.  He did regret not just asking for the bottle but even in a place like this it was kind of nice to be waited on.  Besides, with his latest score, Nick had enough cash to relax.

   Nick lifted his glass to his mouth and just breathed in the aroma.  He hadn't thought about his next move but knew that a comfy bed in a nice hotel might be the perfect place to strategize.  Maybe he should leave now, order some room service.  Maybe find a girl.  Yeah, he smiled to himself, wouldn't that be peachy.

   Two exquisite pieces.  Nick had noticed a man- dark brown hat with two beauties on his hips.  "I wonder if he'd part with those?" Nick asked himself, unaware his lips had moved.  Being some-what of a collector, Nick had noticed the two six-shooters that the man who had just come out of the public cortex booth was wielding.  They were high quality and perhaps the owner didn't know their worth.  Nick downed his drink and followed the cowboy with his eyes.

   Almost instantly, like hungry dogs getting a whiff of fresh meat, four men had surrounded the gunslinger, one putting a dirty hand on his shoulder.  This was going to get ugly and four-on-one rubbed Nick the wrong way.  Nick stood up and walked over to the group while clearing his throat roughly.  Before Nick could say a word, his potential trade partner had opened his mouth.  What he had said earned him a stiff fist to the chin.

   "I'm on holiday, boys." Nick spoke clearly, flexing his muscles, cracking his neck.  His mouth was smiling.  His eyes were burning with rage.  "What's your problem?"

[Cyril Leland Wade]

Eavesdown docks; a dingy bar

Lucky was all sorts of dazed and confused. The punch to the face might have been responsible, but more likely it was the stranger coming to his rescue. He didn't look like a knight in shining armour - and Lucky was not willing to entertain the notion that he looked like a damsel in distress. Nevertheless and at the very least, the distraction was welcome.

The goon squad were taken aback by Nick getting involved, and Lucky seized the opportunity.

Lucky threw an elbow into the chest of the man whose hand was on his shoulder (Baddie no.1) and then basically threw himself at the guy that had hit him (Baddie no.2). Lucky barrelled forwards into him, taking him to the floor.

He didn't have much of a plan after that...

[Tara Marx]

[MISCHIEF]

Tara waited but without a response from the captain she headed off in search of her. "I'll be right back Mattie, going to find Carver."
As she moved through the ship her thoughts ran down a short list of possibilities that could have befallen Lucky. Her hunt led her to the bridge where she found Bell and Michael. "Excuse me Mister Carver but I need to speak with the captain if you know where she is, it is of critical importance I do so asap!"

[Nick Bradshaw]

Eavesdown docks; a dingy bar

Well, I guess that you two are mine, Nick smiled to himself, referring to the two goons Lucky hadn't flailed himself at.  Nick vaulted forwards, low, locking his hands around one of their ankles and drove his shoulder forward against the connected shin.  The man went down with a thud.  As Nick slithered around towards his head to force the downed man into a headlock, his second foe stood over them and put two strong hands on the collar of Nick's bullet-proof vest.  In one smooth motion, and with a surprised yet disappointed look on Nick's face, 'Baddie no. 4' lifted Nick and flung him against the wall.  As Nick bounced and slid down, he found himself in a seated position on the ground with his back resting on the wall his body had now dented.

   Nick looked over at Lucky.  Nick sighed.  Nick looked over at the exit.  Nick sighed.  He picked himself up and gave his cargo pants a light dusting, bending over and stretching out his back.  As the two goon's he had claimed as his opponents moved towards him, Nick spied a bottle of whiskey at arms length.  He picked it up by the neck, glared at the men and then cracked the bottle against his head.  "Drinks on me!" Nick grinned evilly as he subtly twirled his now razor sharp weapon.  Drops of whiskey and glass descended from his head as he breathed heavily but calmly.

[Emerson Bell]

[BRIDGE]

She was glad to see her employers weren't going to be slave drivers not that anything from their introduction indicated that would be the case.  While he was casual and re-assuring in tone she felt there was something under the surface that he guarded, maybe it was something she saw in herself as well though while she preferred brevity in conversation and keeping people at arms length he used his personable nature and eloquent speech.  After he assured her that she was free to keep up her routines he went into a bit of detail about his past life.  A medical professional, likely a doctor.  It suited him, he was intelligent and persuasive when he spoke and his eyes betrayed his awareness when she had told him about the route she'd selected.  He offered to procure something to help with her sleep issues but she was never fond of drugs, even the beneficial ones made her feel less herself and she preferred to fight this battle in her own mind and not one aided by chemical changes.

"No.  Thank you Mr. Carver, I appreciate the offer but I prefer a more natural approach to these issues."  She responded just as Miss Marx entered looking for the Captain.

"I'll leave you to it.  I think I'll head to the galley and get some water."  She slipped past Tara and headed down into the bowels of the ship.  As she approached the galley she saw Andes leaving, the two hadn't gotten off on the right foot which was really her fault she wasn't going to win any congeniality contests any time soon.  Maybe it was time to clear the air.

"Maley."  She called as she approached him, sweat from her workout had started to cool on her skin and she felt a slight shiver.

"Look I'm not good at social interactions so I'm just going to be brief.  I know I didn't make a good first impression with you... so.."  She was searching for a way of saying what she meant without being too touchy feeley or at all touchy feeley.  Emotions were stupid.

"We good?"  Nailed it.  That was basically an apology, in concept, she supposed.

[Addison Michael Carver]

Michael nodded Emerson away as Tara came to him with need. Her expression held an urgency, as did her words. Something was up, and a problem for her could well be a problem for him and Chris. "Well I am also captain of this ship in everything but the namesake. Please, do tell what concerns you?" Michael waited with baited breath, hoping for not too much of an inconvenience.