Corvin Ross's Story

Charles sighed in mild annoyance as the two bickered back and forth; he was already taking a minor disliking to the flamboyant man, who certainly carried himself like a Companion; a breed he could never stand; spoiled little rich-kids who sold their bodies for extravagant sums and felt entitled to respect as a result.

He finished his meal as quickly as he could, and in good time, as the Captain blazed out. He hadn't paid attention to the fight, but it sounded like whining on one end and sniping on the other. No matter. A crew that squabbled amongst itself was a dread for any captain, but for him, it was perfect; what better way to avoid notice than to be the only person on the ship no one held anyone explicitly open hate for? Sure, he would always be under suspicion, like a silent neutral nation during a war; what the belligerents failed to realise is that the neutral nation waited only to profit from the ruins.

Charles was about to leave when he noticed the new person in the room; another crewman? He saw his eyes sweep over the ensemble, dreaded the moment when...

The eyes landed on him, and widened just so slightly. A mere twitch of instinct, but visible enough that his caution was obvious. Charles frowned, scratched his chin a little and headed over to deposit his bowl in the dishwasher.

Avoiding all eye contact, he strode into the hallway the Captain had gone down, intercepting her as she waited by the airlock lift.

Hoping he wouldn't detonate her again, Charles spoke.

"Do believe me when I say that I understand that Companions are perhaps the worst breed of human.

He coughed, recomposing himself.

"Now, about the... destination I proposed. You'd want the coordinates."

Zasha watched, fascinated, at the bickering around her. Obviously there were some stories behind these arguments, and whatever the Captain and Kiran had, or used to have, was complicated. Something big had gone down between them, and she could see from their fighting that whatever had actually happened, anger still burned on each side. Not a good omen for a captain and crew member, but she'd seen crews hold through worse. A new person came in, another passenger perhaps, since Monty was apparently the pilot?

As the Captain left the room and after her the man she suspected was an Operative followed, she wondered what was going on there. Perhaps she would find out in time, perhaps she wouldn't. And if it was Alliance involved, perhaps it was just better that she stay out of it. She didn't have any warrants out for her arrest, precisely, but the Alliance was like an octopus with tentacles everywhere. It was always just best to stay out of reach.

She finished her bowl of stroganov and, since there was more left and no one else was coming in, shrugged and filled her bowl again. This time she ate more slowly, since the edge of her hunger had been taken off, but felt like some conversation was required in the silence.

"So... anyone know where we're headed next?" she ventured, hoping someone would know and not berate her for her ignorance. Zasha didn't care too much where they were headed, since in her experience the mechanics were forced to stay on the ship most of the time, but there were some places she had to keep her head down more than others. Anyway, it wasn't like she had any say in where they went, she was just crew, and new at that. She would just have to roll with whatever the Captain decided to do, as long as she was getting paid. If she wasn't getting paid, well, then there were other options.

Kiran shrugged and leaned back, his spoon still resting in his mouth. This was nothing new to him, though Ju Min wasn’t usually quite so snippy with him. He had to admit that she’d had some good line though, even if she hadn’t meant it. He did raise an eyebrow as the Operative stalked off after her. Ju Min wouldn’t have let him on the ship if he wasn’t on her side, and she was right about the ship. It wasn’t wise to kill a bio-siged captain on their own ship. If the Operative was smart enough to fool Ju Min, he’d be smart enough to know that. He was still curious about why he’d be following Ju Min, until Zasha piped up.

“If I had to guess, I’d say wherever that guy wants to go.” He shrugged again. He had another question though, something he cared about more than their destination.

“I’m more interested in you though.” He turned to Zasha and fixed her with another smile. “What tipped you off that I was a Companion? I mean, obviously I’m gorgeous, but you’re proof that being gorgeous doesn’t mean you’re a Companion.” He winked, his eyes dancing with mischief. Let Ju sulk on the Bridge. He had much more fun things to do.

Zara considered it. "To state the obvious, you're a bit too pretty to be hired on as a regular member of the crew. It's not like being in the Black makes anyone ugly, but you look like you've actually worked at it. So between that and the way you flirt meant you were probably a Companion, and if I'd guessed wrong you'd have just taken it as a compliment." True, he could have also been the captain's, shall we say, personal friend, but usually ships like this weren't wealthy or pompous enough to host anyone who served no purpose. It didn't sound like Kiran had any non-Companion skills, but the argument he'd had with Captain Ju sounded like she owed him a large debt, and that probably explained his presence aboard.

What she didn't say that she'd assumed, and she thought rightly so, that if he hadn't been a companion he would have taken little to no notice of a short mechanic. Companions flirted like they breathed, it was in their training and very nature to charm and flatter anyone they met. True, she'd never actually met one before, which was why it had made her so awkward at first--and that was hopefully finished now--but she'd seen them from a distance with the rich and powerful. Of course she'd heard things about them, who didn't? The 'Verse was as it always had been, fascinated with money and sex. She had to be careful not to let his flattery turn her head, or she might be getting in some hot water with the captain and her new crew. It would help if he wore more clothes.

The new passenger came in, and Zasha motioned to the empty seats now that the Operative and Captain had left. "If you're hungry, you're welcome to have some. It's just stroganov, nothing too fancy, but it's edible."

"Rodger that Monty." Ju Min flicked a switch on her watch and spoke into it, her voice echoed over the Bridge and down on the main deck. Speakers in the mess, the bunks, and the cargo holds were all hooked up to her watch. The Comm panel wasn’t the only way to speak to the crew.

"All hands to Stations. We take off in five minutes. That means Zasha, I need you at the engines. Corvin, Harry, Kiran, you guys are on dishes, try to have everything put away or covered before we take off. I don’t expect a rough take-off but shit happens." She paused for a moment, reveling in the feeling of being at the helm again. It was her home, truly. No matter what had happened, the Qi was here for her, and she was where she belonged.

"Monty, call for clearance. There shouldn’t be a wait, but we don’t want you practicing evasive maneuvers while we’re still in Atmo. Mostly because I do not at all trust Kiran to get anything covered before we take off." She sighed. Trusting Kiran with anything was unwise.

"Charles, you might want to find a place to sit down." She stepped up to a raised platform a few feet behind the pilot. She grabbed the railings and took a deep breath. Finally. The were going to hit the Black.

Hearing the announcement, Zasha jumped from her chair, wiping her face as she did so and throwing the napkin back down on the table. Calling out a "Thanks!" to those who stayed to clean up the mess she'd made while cooking, she dashed to the engine room and started getting the reaction thrusters warmed up. They would likely have to run at the same time as the pulse drives for at least the first part of the trip, depending on the course plotted by the pilot, so they needed to be ready to pair with the other engines. The military-grade part of these engines meant that they worked a bit different than she was used to, but the basic working parts and mechanics were the same, so Zasha wasn't too worried about it. If all went well, she'd have plenty of time to get used to the quirks aboard the Qi, especially that of her engines.

Everything was looking good and starting up just fine, so with a few minutes left Zasha started tightening anything that looked loose and checking every kind of wire for frays. She'd done it as soon as she got to the engine room the first time, but no one had ever found fault with her double, triple, even quadruple checking things so long as it didn't slow the ship down unnecessarily. And given that this was a bit of an unfamiliar engine, she didn't want to leave anything to chance. The screening field was perfect, the anti-grav functioning excellently, and they were ready for liftoff from her end. There wasn't really any place for her tools to be kept during the inevitable bump and jiggle of getting from Atmo into the Black, so she packed everything back into a bag again and slung it on her back. She didn't want to leave the engine room while they were first starting up, just in case, so she slung her tool belt around her waist as well and watched to see if anything went wrong. If it did, she'd be ready to jump in and get it fixed.

The engine room was noisy as things started up, as cued by the pilot, and Zasha idly wondered what that would be like. Steering a ship through the Black, concerned with where they were going rather than how. She'd taken a turn in the pilot seat when she was younger, and found it not to her liking. She preferred the simplicity of mechanics and gears rather than the often artistic basis of piloting, from what she'd seen. Engines worked best in one way, and sure you could alter them to do whatever you liked but the principles remained the same. Besides, heavy tools were fun, and multipurpose if someone decided to do something Zasha took serious offense to.

Kiran sighed and stood up, stacking the bowls that were empty. The dishwasher was empty. Hell, it could well be pristine and never used. Hopefully the machine wouldn’t bust open in the event of evasive maneuvers. Not that he didn’t trust the totally untested and possibly trigger-happy pilot—wait—no, that was exactly right.

Any man who carried a shotgun to dinner was probably not the most relaxed man in the ‘Verse. As he would expect from Ju Min. The Medic kills people. The Pilot can’t keep his hands off his guns. At least she’d been considerate enough to hire some cute crew members. And maybe she’d even gotten them some jobs.

The leftovers were in the fridge and the pots were in the dishwasher. He wasn’t going to let the only real food in a week go to waste. He would hoard this food in his cabin if he had to.

“Better strap in boys. Wouldn’t want your pretty faces getting all bruised up.” He winked at the two men who were left on the deck. Just because Zasha had a job to do didn’t mean he was out of people to flirt with. “Jump seats are this way.” He waltzed towards the stern, the seats were near the ramp to the cargo hold.

Mason was on his way out of the mess when he heard the announcement over the intercom. He scowled and dropped his shoulders. Looking down at his watch he cursed under his breath. "Late" he though to himself. People wouldn't be pleased. He could have missed a lot of things in absence. Now he had no choice but to delay even further. That was of course unless he wanted his face to have an impromptu meeting with the ship floor when the pilot lifted the ship off the planet. That wouldn't benefit anyone.

He watched as the young guy made his way to the jump seats. He seemed so full of himself. If it's one thing Mason hated it was an ego. It always got in the way of business and that never worked well for him. Mason scoffed at his comments and reluctantly followed behind to get himself strapped in safely before take-off.

The sooner he got into atmo the better, even if that meant putting up with this ponce for a few minutes.

As soon as she heard about the search, Ju Min braced herself, waiting to see both what Monty was going to do, and how he was going to do it. She flicked over a confirmation for his maneuvers, the ship reading his heart-rate and correctly predicting a rough take off. As the ship lurched up, she instinctively buckled her knees, keeping her body loose and ready to react to the ship’s movements. Anyone not in a jump-seat was going to have a rough time of it, and she hoped Kiran had actually cleaned up instead of expecting a soft take off. She couldn’t keep the grin off her face. Yes. This was what she wanted, this skin-of-her-teeth escape. This prickling up her neck and the fluttering of her pulse.

"Looks like a solid course Monty." She released the bar she’d been holding, confirming the pilot’s course. "The Qi doesn’t burn as much fuel when she’s empty, pull that stunt when we’re loaded and she won’t be as nice to you."

She swung herself over to the communication panel. She wasn’t sure if or how far they might be tailed, let alone if they’d be fired on, and she wasn’t going to release her grip on Qi just yet. "Sorry about that rough take-off folks, I hope you’re all strapped in and braced well. Should be clear from here on out, but keep your wits about you for the next hour or so."