Well, this was embarrassing.

Not for Pele, who hadn't done anything wrong (because she hadn't reacted in time), but more so for the others who had attacked first and asked questions later. Jedikiah was making the best of a bad situation but Cooper wasn't taking it so well.

Cecil didn't often fly off the handle -- his brand of abuse was more about firmly establishing dominance and dangling the threat of more serious violence over your head -- but Pele had witnessed him lose his cool on a few occasions, and the way Cooper grabbed the girl and screamed at her for her stupidity twisted her stomach. The doctor continued to take charge of the situation, which was a relief because she didn't like taking orders in the best of times and she definitely didn't like taking orders from middle-aged men with anger issues.

"I don't see why I need to tag along," she lamented to no one in particular once her and Cooper were alone. She sighed and crossed her arms.

"What do you expect will happen with this Sergeant James figure anyway? A shootout? A civil conversation? On second thought, if there's talking involved, it really is best I come with you." She thought back to his earlier outburst. It had rattled her, but now that things had calmed down and she'd had some time to digest the scene she'd witnessed, she was coming to the conclusion that it hadn't been that much like Cecil after all. Sure, blame had been thrown around, but it had a different undercurrent. Maybe, just maybe, it was the kind of yelling you did when you were actually more angry at yourself than the person you were yelling at -- which still wasn't great, but at least it showed you had some sense of shame. She would trust the mechanic enough to go on this mission with him, but she would have to keep on her toes.

Mattie was already standing about the cargo bay, anxious to receive some proper orders that hopefully involved her getting off the ship and stretching her legs. Having to keep out of Caraway's sight had interfered with the usual training routine she kept up during ship travel.

"Nice work, Boss," she greeted Rian when he appeared. "I'd say that was hands down your best landing so far. Been practicing in secret?"

She was genuinely impressed, perhaps even proud -- though some part of her was strangely annoyed at the sudden improvement.

"The sheep are happy too." She looked to the animals. They were much less rattled by the landing than she'd feared, although she could sense that they shared her eagerness to finally touch some grass. "Which is good because, y'know... we don't want a stampede in our hands."

Location: Revenge, Bridge

Having executed his primary role in the plan, Jo leaned back in his chair and allowed himself a small break before somebody inevitably made more demands on him. He cracked his neck a few times and, with an inhale, raised his shoulders up to his ears and relaxed them again, welcoming the fresh rush of blood to his head. That was all the rest he had time for before his input was needed again.

"I wager there might be somethin' shiny on board if they're so willing to cut these two ships off so easily. Plus, looks like they're about to tangle with a civvie ship. Seems kinda fascinatin' don't it? Thoughts?"

"Yeah... fascinating." His brow furrowed. Why would they engage with a civilian ship at a time like this? He had a bad feeling about whatever they were up to. Then again, he always had a bad feeling about what the Alliance was up to.

"Izak, hold onto that plan you had for that ship. This one's settled but I get the feeling that that one is going to need some convincing."

"The virus Holger plugged in works by flooding the ship's terminals with spam that makes it difficult to operate the ship's systems," Jo sat up in his chair. By now, he was so used to the pain that accompanied the shift that he didn't even flinch. The endorphins from knowing what horrors their enemies were currently facing probably helped as well.

"If the ship contacts the others in the convoy, the virus will also spread to them, and they'll have to choose between dealing with it and dealing with us." He turned to look at Izak. "But I should be able to patch you through. I hope you don't mind your message being accompanied by... advertisements."

Jedikiah went to work. The wound was bad but years of such tending made him comfortably confident that he could handle it. He studied both patient Tommy and his partner Beth. They seemed genuine in their reactions and dispositions but knew well enough there were plenty of people that could pull off a ruse off in any given situation.

He administered aid as he spoke. "Cooper, please take Pele and go find our crew. Leave a good trail, I'll follow after I finish here and make sure there is no danger to our ship."

The wound was easy enough for some first aid but without immediate follow on medical it could leave the man in a bad way. There was no point in moving to the med bay. He had what he needed in his bag. A little deeper tending to the internal injuries first, then tidy up. And the man would be better off.

"Please, not to worry, we'll be fine here." He said to assure his crew mates.
He gave a hard smile to the woman Beth. "Take that blue cloth in the clear bag, snap it open and hold it on your head." It would seal the wound and offer relief from the pain. The hard smile and narrowed eyes served as a warning. But just to be clear, "Don't think of taking advantage. I'm not just an old man with a first aid kit."

Then the jolly smile was back as he made a stitch or two inside the man's wound.

Nelly had grown up on a pastoral estate in rural Londinium. While it was not quite a working farm, there were orchards that were tended to, but not worked by her family. Nelly being the rebellious sort that went against her father's wishes, had helped the caretaker Mr. Boddington from time to time and that meant, on occasion, watching him clean out the stables that housed the one or two horses they may have had at the time. Mr. Boddington was not only a proud man, but an old fashioned one as well and thought very little of little Miss Nelly scooping horse shit.

She still remembered the smell fondly.

But now, shovel in hand, her memories faded and were replaced by reality as she slid the steel shovel under a particularly fresh pile and heaved it into the wheelbarrow sitting nearby. "Oh, how is there so much shit? It's just one horse!" She looked at her partner, young Rory Mayfield, with a forced grin. "I imagine you're loving this." She propped the shovel up on its blade and rested her chin on the handle. "When the Captain said-" Nelly affected Noah's voice, accent and all. "-rear security and counter-intelligence. I didn't think he meant a horse's rear." She laughed, hoping Rory, whom she was still just getting to know, would laugh with her.

"Well?"

Rian was still holding onto the kid's arm. He let go.

"Sorry. Physical confrontation is one of three ways I know how to get someone's attention."

The fill-in Skipper pointed at the security displays and then tapped the screen where you could see the customers arriving.

"I'm comin' on strong here, shit-shoveler because this is going to have to be a quick job interview. You already passed the hardest part. You showed me you know how to do the job, and that you won't hesitate when that shit you were shoveling hits the fan. All you gotta do is say 'yes' or 'no.' Sheep or shepherd if I can be overly poetical about it."

He smirked. That sounded cool. Then he ruined it by remembering he needed to ask a couple more questions.

Can he shoot? Does he know his way around the engine compartment? Shit!

The acting captain was improvising a little beyond his thespian ability. Carpenter wasn't much more of a spacer than the young man he kept calling kid.

"Just think about it. I gotta go greet the customers. You can come with me or go with them. Or sit here and think about it, just don't steal the damned thing, the real Captain wouldn't kill me but he'd be just real sad and then I'd feel like shit then Tabby might not smile for the first time ever...You'd like it here."

With that, Rian patted Albie on the shoulder and made for the cargo bay. Time to unload some sheep, an author, and about four hundred pounds of human beef.

Desmond stood motionless next to the captain like a golem with an unchecked enthusiasm for kevlar and carbon-fiber.  Deciding to go with the classic all-black alliance ferro-ceramic armor under his trusty coat and a modern pair of large-frame and dark sunglasses, found in the ship's maintenance hangar, which would explain their resemblance to welding glasses, albeit fashionable ones which would help with the needed theatrics.

If he was going to play the part of the ubiquitous jackboot authoritarian thug he would respectfully up the psyops component and do the part justice, after all he had been method acting the role going on a few decades. Ultimately he intended his presence would draw some unwanted attention away from Gen and their shaky cover story enough to blend in without too many eyebrows raised. It was time for Hyde to made an appearance.

As the door flung open, Hyde made sure to be positioned on Noah's flank with a clear line of sight and fire into the door, in the unlikely case any of the gracious hosts were feeling particularly spicy about today's unwanted scrutiny.

With a heart-beat passing after the captain provided a cursory notice Hyde brushed past the Sherriff through the now open doorway with a long-perfected "accidental" shoulder bump in passing. The one to remind those with a perceived sense of power how easy it is to be knocked off balance, and it was downright satisfyingly cheeky.

After making a quick visual scan with no immediate threats in the small office Hyde walked a small circle around the room's occupants like an armored panther before stopping within inches in front of the younger Deputy.

Staring unblinkingly behind his new welder's shades and with learned movement Hyde silently pulled a large 100mm diameter cylinder from his chest bandolier and released the contents with a mechanical hiss.

A fluorescent yellow and green round object fell into his hand.

Hyde placed the object in his mouth, taking a large and crisp bite out of the bright colored apple.

Nodding to himself and leaning in close to the deputy he whispered a single word just loud enough for them to hear.

"......Granny Smith....."

Still without blinking behind the darkened sunglasses, Hyde took a spot next to the doorway facing the room's occupants and began taking small and deliberate bites from the small brightly colored fruit.

There were a small handful of Pirate-esque, or Piratey items in the room one might notice after looking around. The clock had a teeny little flintlock pistol as one of its hands. The empty aquarium featured a toy treasure chest. The portrait of Stalin on the wall had an eye-patch. And last but not least, if you stomped your feet on the floor, you might hear a section that sounded more hollow than the rest. There was a hatch for the maintenance crawlspace in the room.

"I'm enjoying this but just to add some incentive, I'm going to shuffle the other guys closer to you the longer you take to find your way in..."

Sitting reclined in his chair, in the manager's office of The Cuba Lounge, Paisley chuckled to himself. It was feeding his ego having this many people vying for his attention and his expertise. Given his prose, the man was either desperately starved of, or suffered from an extreme over-abundance of positive reinforcement growing up. He knew Ximo wasn't on their side now and the sub-par literary artist was going to enjoy his moment as a villain of the week.

Before - Cargo Bay - (When Pool was handing out firearms like a really messed up Santa Claus)

"Oooh! Can I have her gun? I got two hands. Easy-peasy!"

The look Reinhardt gave him. It shot right through him. Sid made a face, momentarily frustrated. He was about to protest but thought better of it. Applebaum knew it'd be fun to run around a strange space station with two guns like he's a super spy from one of the vids. He also knew he didn't really have much experience running around anywhere with one gun.

"Fiiiine."

Now - As Beth is possibly moments from venting herself into space

"Shall I look at this door?"

Deep in thought, Sidney scratched his chin with the barrel of his pistol.

"Yeah give it a shot... not like you'll-"

Sid was doing something stupid and realized it. Not scratching his chin with a loaded gun. He hadn't realized that was stupid yet. The financier panicked.

"Don't touch the door!"

He ran over and put himself between the mechanic and the door.

"This is a wacky rotating communist space puzzle. Doors aren't doors!"

Applebaum gesticulated a bit too broadly then tapped his head again with that pistol he probably shouldn't have.

"We gotta think like a guy who's trying to impress us with how smart he is."

The PA crackled to life.
"I heard that."

"Oh shit! Right. He can see and hear everything we're doing. LOVELY HOME..."

He forced a smile and turned back to the mechanic.

"Let's look for pirate ... ephemera... Last time I opened a staircase under a desk by rotating a painting of a parrot. "

Finally putting away the weapon, Sid started rifling through a rack of old pamphlets, from back when this place was meant to be some sort of themed vacation destination. Just a bunch of condensed communist theory, and guides to the facilities in the central ring

"The maintenance hatches might still be accessible. I don't like tight spaces so I'm sticking with the erotic author's treasure hunt."