Something New [2430-1-2-Wed-7:45am]

[Grace Forjacks]

Grace listened and nodded. Quillan's situation was familiar enough. Grace had been recruited and so had Quillan, though the people and the intentions had been different. At least Grace had come along openly and willingly, knowing exactly what she was getting into. But that was the Mob for you. Fiking 'Tweeners.

"You got a trade out of it. I got a trade out of mine." His was a little more useful, though considering what he'd just implied to her, maybe it wasn't. Grace was a nonentity. All the girls she'd ran with were mothers and whores or dead. She didn't owe anybody a thing. Quillan still had a bunch of nasty parasites in suits on his back.

"You know what's the great thing about travelling on a spaceship?" She said, not giving him warning as quickly switched gears, "There are no laws that say you've got to report where you are and what you're doing. You can just disappear completely. And for all everybody knows, you're dead, fallen off some walkway and smashed at the bottom of the Below like a bunch of rotten tomatoes. As long as you don't go talking to anyone on Terra, nobody will ever realize where you ended up. And after six months, they'll forget all about you when someone steals a bunch of cash or kills the Don, or tries to hone in on their territory."

Alright, the last bit wasn't too subtle, but she was sure he'd get it. And, considering she wasn't dead and she'd eaten at least four of his meals so far, she was pretty sure he wasn't about to poison and kill the crew. If he did, he'd never get the ship working again. The advantage of rebuilding your baby from the ground up the ability to program in a self-destruct sequence that nobody but yourself (and Klove) knew was there.

[quillan]

Quillan, a bit shocked that she would be this forward, leaned back in his chair.

"It's what I've been trying to do. I havent' had a lot of work lately because I've been too busy running around the planet to actually sit down and cook a meal. Although I would normally stand to do so... Either way..."

He grabbed his plate and put it in the line to be washed. She had caught him. He wasn't very good at hiding some things and she was a very perceptive lady, he figured. But she didn't seem like she was going to toss him into the fire back on Terra.

"I'm suprised I haven't so much as tossed my cookies at all. I imagined a ship would make my stomach quite the nervous thing...
Did you have any requests for lunch or supper?"

[Grace Forjacks]

"There's always work on this ship. It's not always legal, but it's work. Nobody's going to keep you here if you want to leave." Grace had found that it was best to let some men leave if they were set on leaving. You didn't need to be watching your back at every turn because you wanted a merc to stay on longer than he wanted to. Now, you could get them back after they were off the ship, but while they were inside, you played nice.

"Going through atmo might make you a bit queasy, but if you're not sick now, you're never going to be spacesick. Most Bottom people never get sick. I have no idea why but that's how it works." Grace finished her own meal and thought about it. "I'm a sucker for a good steak. Whip up that and some potatoes, and I'll be a happy woman."

She stood and stretched once again. Grace was going to have to take a jog around the ship later and get herself loosened up. She took another look at Quillan. He was going to be much more useful than she'd initially thought. He had the potential, and if there was anything Grace liked, it was potential.

"See you at lunch." And with that, she wandered back upstairs to her cockpit, flipping off the autopilot and settling in.