Check-Out Time [2430-1-4-Tue-8:00am]

[Grace Forjacks]

The Underworld was moving. You could fear the engines humming through the deck, a thousand little engines of every shape and size giving the large ship a push to get it moving. They were headed back into the inner solar system, probably to pick up water and fish from Corus, or whatever else was on the menu.

This meant it was time to get out while the getting was good. The further the ship carried them, the further away from Nox and Glacies they would be, and Grace wasn't headed back to the inner solar system unless there was good money to be had. Right now, they were sitting pretty with their last payday. In theory, they could have stayed on the Underworld, bleeding cash until they were dry before leaving to do another job, but that wasn't the way Grace did things. If you left when you still had your pockets full, you had plenty to keep you afloat even when the jobs dried up.

She had managed to secure them a small job. One of Nox's moons, Romulus, needed diamond drill bits. And what did you know, Grace just happened to have some diamond drill bits she hadn't managed to unload. She couldn't be sure that their missing ship was the same ship Grace had salvaged, but the chances were good. She'd written back that she had their size bits in stock and would bring them over. They'd bartered a little on the cost, but in the end, went for 75% average cost, which made the miners feel like they'd gotten a deal, and Grace happy to have gotten any money for the worthless things.

At the moment, she was waiting for the rest of her crew to show up. Most of 'em were on board, either still asleep or waking up. Quillian would probably be cooking breakfast in another half hour. Grace had already been up for a few hours, leaving Enan to catch some shut-eye that he desperately needed. His beard was growing out more and more everyday, and she liked how it looked on him.

While she waited, sitting on the ramp leading into the storage, she scanned over the news on her eInkr. Unwin's bounty caught her eye. The man was worth a pretty penny. And there, below it, that girl she'd seen Klove sniffing around with the past few days. Grace shook her head a little. It was to be expected. The more you ended up knowing, the more likely they had a bounty on their head. Grace had dodged that so far, not including the murder charges they'd tried to lay on her before she got off-planet. She had a knack for laying low and it had served her well.

[szarados]

The spaceport of the Underworld was as lively as he had ever visited. Vendors of all sorts crammed into every open space of the midline between the ships, peddling what they can. They all have a hungry look in their eyes, far as he can tell, greedy for the coin of the recently paid crewmen docking on the station. As many as not were shoddy snake-oil salesmen, but that didn’t much cut into their profits. The respectable merchant will have vanished into the crowd before anybody’s the wiser that they've been hoodwinked. Then, of course, there were the pickpockets. Rare to find a quicker hand in the 'verse than that of a spaceport thief.

Szarados was on his guard as he made his way through the crowds. The thick straps of a heavy duffle bag and a rifle case crisscrossed over his chest. Its obvious to anyone with eyes that he’s on his way off the oversized skiff, and that’s enough to illicit the occasional offer of safe passage elsewhere from boats looking for passengers. Most of them don’t get much more than a stern grunt, and that’s enough to say not interested. He’s already got a ride.

Underfoot, he could feel the gentle rumble of engines and the dull purr that told him they were moving, and that it was time to be moving on. He was every bit of the same mind as Grace in that regard. The first time he had visited the station, he’d been at odds with the idea of the place ever moving in any meaningful way. Most of the people who call the port home are just too varied, ornery, or otherwise free-minded to move in any sort of standardized way. Eventually, he’d come to the only reasonable conclusion. For all its talk of freedom, somewhere at the center of the Underworld's den of thieves, there was a boss. A figure of authority to oversee the whole thing. By his reckoning, there had to be or the place’d never move anywhere at all without tearing itself apart. Besides that, it’s the nature of civilization to have structure. The only place a man has any real liberty is in the wilds and the Black.

The Queen was just where Grace had told him it would be, and it wouldn't be long before he'd emerge from the crowd. He'd go no further than the foot of the ramp. The boat was Grace’s territory, and he’s got an odd way about these things. “Weren’t no need for you t’wait and greet me in person,” he rumbles. His face showing none of the amusement that's so keen in his voice.

[Grace Forjacks]

"A few of my crew are AWOL, I'm just making sure everybody's on board before I take off. There's nothing worse than leaving someone behind." Grace glanced up at him, turning off the eInkr and tucking it away inside her jacket. There really was nothing more irritating than realizing your first mate was sleeping in some other woman's bed instead of being at his post like he'd been ordered to. After that misadventure, she'd made Klove into her first mate, since he knew enough to get to the ship on time instead of expecting her to come back for him. Grace didn't go back for anybody, ever.

Grace got to her feet, making a come-aboard gesture as she walked up the ramp into the storage bay, past the crates from their last salvage. "I'll give you the grand tour if you want it, or I can just show you to the bunk and let you find out everything on your own. Quillan will be making breakfast soon if you're hungry."

[szarados]

The entirety of the time that she’s sitting, he wouldn’t make a move. He’d always had a dominant personality, and though he found humans to be instinctually dull in most regards, even they had set boundaries. Normally, he wouldn’t give a half a damn, but if the two of them were going to work together, he had to show Grace a little respect. Even if it was in his own odd sort of way.

"A few of my crew are AWOL, I'm just making sure everybody's on board before I take off. There's nothing worse than leaving someone behind."

Szar doesn’t know about her former first-mate, or her true feelings about going back for folk. He finds himself hoping she’s not one of those never leave a man behind sorts, though. Its that sort of thing that gets whole crews killed. “There’s worse,” he mumbles. Some men dreamt of being left on the Underworld. Its only when Grace stood and gestured for him to come along that he would step up onto the ramp, and it’d take only a few of his long strides before he’d catch up to her.

"I'll give you the grand tour if you want it, or I can just show you to the bunk and let you find out everything on your own. Quillan will be making breakfast soon if you're hungry."

As they pass the cargo, he’d not make a secret of his giving it a look over. Good to have an idea of what you’re hauling. “I could do with seein’ the basics. Imagine I’ll have plenty o’ time to soak up the details on my own time.”

[Grace Forjacks]

Grace nodded, expecting as much from Szar. If he hadn't taken a look around, however brief, then you wouldn't be able to rely on him to do the same in a dangerous situation. She left the ramp down for the late comers and headed into the hall, rapping on the inner wall, "Engine room's in here, and so is Kenna, our mechanic. She's the Dwarf I mentioned before."

As she took him around the circular hall, she pointed out the rest of the ship, opening the doors as they passed them so Szar could get a look inside. "Bunks are right here, just grab an open one. Showers and the toilet are just on the end. The mess hall is here, med supplies in the chest on the right, fridge on the left. Quillan does three meals a day, but if you're hungry inbetween, go ahead and help yourself."

Grace headed up the stairs, not bothering to wait for him. She didn't need to, not with his leg span, "Fuel tank's on the other side of this wall, and up here is where I am. Cockpit's on the right, my quarters are on the left. If my door's open, go ahead and stop on in."

There was the ship in a nutshell. Everything else would be easy enough to sort out, and he could take care of introducing himself to the others. Breakfast would help smooth that over, since everyone was better when they eating. She went down the stairs on the other side, ending up where they'd started. "The keys to the locks can be found hanging above anything the cases or just inside the doors if you're trying to get anything open."

[szarados]

Szar would fall into step a few paces behind Grace. This was her show, and he was just along for the ride. He does keep an open eye, though. Nobody could claim that he wasn’t alert and perceptive. It was a requirement to make it past childhood on Nox.

"Engine room's in here, and so is Kenna, our mechanic. She's the Dwarf I mentioned before."

He nodded when she mentioned the dwarf. It probably wouldn’t be rocket science to pick her out of the crowd at the breakfast table. Its not her that he’d have cause to be concerned about anyway. The were-creature that she had mentioned having aboard was the one crewmember that he could take or leave, and the one that he’d be likely to have strong feelings about one way or the other. They’d either be immediate friends or quick enemies.

"Bunks are right here, just grab an open one. Showers and the toilet are just on the end. The mess hall is here, med supplies in the chest on the right, fridge on the left. Quillan does three meals a day, but if you're hungry inbetween, go ahead and help yourself."

When they came to the bunk room, he would stop just long enough to toss his bags on what appeared to be an open bed. No reason to carry all of it to breakfast. “Looks t’be a hard ship to navigate,” he offered by way of making the tour seem less one-sided. Of course, all he had to offer was sarcasm.

"The keys to the locks can be found hanging above anything the cases or just inside the doors if you're trying to get anything open."

“Don’t that kinda defeat the purpose o’ havin’ a lock in the first place?” It seemed damned obvious to him, but who knew. Breakfast had started to sound pretty good to him about halfway through the concise tour, and he’d doubted whether he had made the right choice when she had asked him. Though he had never flown one a ship of the Queen’s model, it was one of the more intuitive designs insofar as he could tell.

[Grace Forjacks]

"Locks aren't meant to keep anybody out, just things inside." She explained, knowing they were probably confusing if he was used to ships that weren't as old as the Queen, or had much better handling. Anyway, the locks wouldn't keep anything else. They were cheap, easily picked or broken. Nothing of real value was stored in there, not where anybody could get at it. "This whole ship's been overhauled, and she's a bit... iffy with sharp turns. If you don't keep everything locked, we'll have dishes and weapons flying everywhere."

That was something she'd found out the hard way when dodging Sprung on Antheia. She'd come out alive, and the Queen had stopped on a dime just like she was supposed to, but the kitchen had been a mess of broken crockery and her merc at the time hadn't secured his knife before her fancy tricks. He'd bled out in the crew's room while she was yelling at Sprung, which was a shame because she'd liked him.

"I'm the primary pilot, so you'll find me up here most days. You can keep yourself busy however you'd like, so long as nobody ends up dead." She didn't need to tell him what would happen if someone ended up dead. Szar would figure that one out on his own.

[szarados]

"Locks aren't meant to keep anybody out, just things inside. This whole ship's been overhauled, and she's a bit... iffy with sharp turns. If you don't keep everything locked, we'll have dishes and weapons flying everywhere."

Down through the years he had sailed on a lot of boats. Some of them were older than others, but he had never encountered one that rode rough enough to require locks on the storage compartments. The Queen had the makings of a fun ride. “Huh. An’ what keeps the keys from takin’ to the air?” he asked, not without his usual amusement. His comments were enough to wear on a persons nerves after a while. “Not that I’m complainin’. I’m sure it keeps a mind in top shape.”

"I'm the primary pilot, so you'll find me up here most days. You can keep yourself busy however you'd like, so long as nobody ends up dead."

Szar preferred to operate under the assumption that he wouldn’t find out. If he fit in as well as Grace had expected on their impromptu interview, then the crew would all be best buddies come dinnertime. “It’s a rare captain helms their own ship regular.” For some reason, he had learned, most pilots didn’t have the mindset to be good earners, but that was just his experience. “I can’t complain ‘bout any o’ that. Hopefully you got a body or two knows a couple o’ card games,” he said.

[Grace Forjacks]

Grace couldn't help but grin. Nobody had thought to ask that one before, but, they were usually seeing the keys, and their holders, as she told them about 'em. She traced the curve of the key hook for him, they way it went up over half and kept curving back to the wall, leaving only just enough room to slide the key ring out the top. "As long as I don't flip the ship, the keys will stay in place. It's hardly high-tech, but it works."

Szar was right. Mostly captains she knew didn't do the piloting, at least, certainly not full-time. In Grace's opinion, they were idiots. Piloting gave you distance from the crew, gave you peace and quiet to focus on organizing your jobs and responding to contacts. It also made sure you knew where the hell you were headed at all times. But then again, Grace was a bit of a control freak when it came to those matters.

"Nobody knows the Queen better than me." She told him, "And I couldn't tear the original consoles out when I rewired it, so only I know what all the buttons do. Training a pilot would be a pain in the neck." That, and it would give up one of the advantages Grace had. Being the only one able to pilot it safely meant that, in case of a mutiny, they wouldn't be able to kill her or they'd risk drifting dead or triggering the self destruct. It was the little things that kept you alive out here, and Grace had a lot of those little things leaning in her favour.

"If they don't know any card games, I'll be shocked. There's a deck in the chest in the crew room." She paused, grinned, and added, "They're obviously marked, but if you learn the marks, it just makes the game even that much more interesting."

[szarados]

It all became much clearer how the keys stayed in place when she walked him over and let him have a look at them. Of course, that wasn’t the only thing that was becoming more clear about his new home. Grace obviously had a hand in everything that went on aboard the ship, at least, that was how it appeared at a glance. She seemed paranoid, the type who didn’t trust her fellows among the crew. Szar couldn’t blame her. He’d once seen a careless captain shoved out his own airlock.

"Nobody knows the Queen better than me. And I couldn't tear the original consoles out when I rewired it, so only I know what all the buttons do. Training a pilot would be a pain in the neck."

“’Least now I know how the lot of us are going to die,” he said. He could only hope that he wasn’t the first to have made the point that having only one person aboard to pilot the ship was a bad idea. What the hell were the rest of them supposed to do if Grace was incapacitated and the ship came under attack? “There’s a pain in the neck, and then there’s the pain o’ dyin’ ‘cause nobody knows what the feck the buttons do,” he muttered, the commentary as much for his own sanity as a criticism. He’s obviously a pessimist, as he never failed to look for the worst case scenario.

"If they don't know any card games, I'll be shocked. There's a deck in the chest in the crew room. They're obviously marked, but if you learn the marks, it just makes the game even that much more interesting."

“Playin’ on yer ship seems like huntin’ a baited field,” he confided with a grin. With any luck, he’d have more creds than he came aboard with by the time they next landed. Though, he’d have to pass on the marked deck. Fair was fair, and cards is one place that he’d be loathe to cheat. Combat, on the other hand..

[Grace Forjacks]

Grace snorted at Szar's darker mutterings. "Klove knows how to fly it too. And, when I have men that stick around longer than three months, I show them the basics." But three months was a long time for a merc, longer for a man who was planning on stealing and flipping a ship. They'd go and find an easier target. Or they'd have to leave Grace alive. What she didn't say was that if she and Klove were both dead, then Grace really didn't give a rat's ass about what happened to the crew. In that sort of a situation, if everybody wasn't already dead, then they deserved to be.

Szar was clearly no slump when it came to cards. She'd have to see if he knew how to play Hearts, and then maybe she'd have a real challenge for once. The last person who'd beaten her was Holo, and he was the one who taught her to play, so he knew all her weaknesses. Strangers never saw her coming, not until it was far too late.

"Depending on the crew, it certainly is." And depending on this crew? Szar would probably clean Quillan and Enan out if he got them started. Castle? Maybe. Klove? Definitely. The kid was shit at anything but darts. He made a horrible Hearts partner too, no matter how hard she tried to teach him. Grace wasn't sure if Kenna knew any games, but knowing Dwarves, she'd be happy to learn just so she could waste her money.

[szarados]

"Klove knows how to fly it too. And, when I have men that stick around longer than three months, I show them the basics."

That made him feel a little better, at least. Last place he wanted to end up was in a situation where the ship was adrift and there wasn’t a body left conscious that knew how to pilot the damned bucket. It seemed a rather unfitting way to end one’s life. “Yer crew tend towards livin’ short lives then most o' the time?” he laughed, but it was a serious question.

"Depending on the crew, it certainly is."

Some people wrote a journal or read when they were flying. Others took up music, or cleaned their weapons religiously. He played cards. He had even taught himself a few tricks over the years. "I’ll go easy on ‘em. Don’ want t’break any wallets on the first leg o’ my bein’ here.” That was the kind of thing that kept people from wantin’ to throw in again. Then again, some people played even if they knew it was crooked, or that they couldn’t win, for the simple fact that it the only game in town, so to speak.

As soon as he met the rest of the crew, he would probably have a pretty good idea of who he could beat and who he couldn’t, anyway. If Quillan was as startled by him as Grace expected, then it would be easy to see how playing a game with him would go. Klove, on the other hand, would likely be more difficult to read.

"How 'bout some o' that breakfast, then?" he finally asked.

[Grace Forjacks]

"Depends. We've got a high turn-over, but most of them walk out on their own two feet. The problem with paying men well is that they aren't so poor they have to stay." A man with pockets full of cash was likely as any to wander off a ship and try his luck elsewhere, since he had something to fall back on. But a poor man had no choice but to hope the man he was backing would eventually pay out, or at least give him enough to jump ship. Grace would rather see them go than stay. Sure, you had to look for new men. But you also didn't have to worry about them killing you while you slept because you'd taken everything they had.

Grace nodded. Going easy was a good plan, espeically for the first trip out. While you could make it on a boat avoiding the crew, it wasn't very healthy, and it wouldn't encourage anyone to stick their neck out for you if things went pear-shaped, as they always inevitably did.

"Come on." She headed down the other set of stairs, back around to the mess hall. The smell of fresh meat greeted her noise. Quillan was up and cooking. Smelled like eggs as well. A quick look at the pan sizzling on the grill confirmed her suspicions. "Morning!" She greeted her jittery cook and grabbed a seat.

[Klove Makem]

He was really starting to enjoy waiting up to breakfast that was already cooked. It was a much better way to wake up than most. Klove dressed in his bunk, shoved the curtain aside and stepped out onto the floor. Castle was still asleep, his own curtains closed. And one of the empty bunks had a bag on it.

Klove wandered over, taking a quick peek at it. The smell of bear was pretty heavy on it. Grace had said there was a new were coming on board. This must be him. Klove headed out of the bunks and into the corridor, following it down to the mess hall.

There was Grace, and there was the new guy. And he was big. Klove took another deep breath, staying calm. Cats and bears weren't natural enemies, but they weren't exactly friends either. Luckily, years living with Grace had taught Klove to control his wereside, to shove it down and act like you were totally human, even if you weren't. He didn't offer to shake hands. That would have been an invasion of personal space, and a sure-fire way to get a fight started.

Instead, he said, "Hi. Klove Makem, first mate." And grabbed a plate to fill up with ham and eggs, and some hashbrowns. He grabbed a seat on the end of the table, instead of his usual place beside Grace. Best to give the bear some space for the first bit.

[szarados]

The scent of the other were-creature was all over the boat. To his nose, it marked Klove’s territory as clearly as if he had put up signs. If he hadn’t known what he was walking into, it would have made him uneasy. As it was, he came aboard knowing that there was another here, potential competition. The beast in the back of his mind raged, but he remained outwardly calm. Flying as often as he had, he knew how to control that urge to fight or flee when confronted with something that you would just as well destroy. And if there’s one thing that he dislikes as a bear, it’s the cat-folk.

"Depends. We've got a high turn-over, but most of them walk out on their own two feet. The problem with paying men well is that they aren't so poor they have to stay."


“Huh. So, kinda men you’re hirin’ ain’t got no loyalty to anythin’ but money,” he commented. Whether he approved or not he wouldn’t let it show. ‘Course, when you’re in a bad situation and the other guy has more money to throw around, that sort of thing has to make you wonder about the people you have been flying with. Which one is going to flop? Concerns aside, he followed Grace into the mess.

"Come on. Morning!"

Szar’s salutation was more along the lines of a stern look and a grunt toward Quillan. He took a seat at the table near Grace, but left a seat in-between them to give himself plenty of room.

He heard Klove before he saw him. The cat was younger than he had expected, and that just further contributed to his doubts. His brow arched as he looked over the other man, obviously skeptical.

"Hi. Klove Makem, first mate."

“Szarados,” he said simply. Taking Klove’s actions to heart, he fixed his own plate. When he was done, it was heaped high.