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Sanguine Caifu

The Black, The 'Verse, Firefly and Serenity

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a part of Sanguine Caifu, by Sarasham.

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Sarasham holds sovereignty over The Black, The 'Verse, Firefly and Serenity, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

386 readers have been here.

Copyright: The creator of this roleplay has attributed some or all of its content to the following sources:

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0303461/, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/firefly_%28tv_series%29, http://firefly.wikia.com/wiki/firefly
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The Black, The 'Verse, Firefly and Serenity is a part of Sanguine Caifu.

5 Characters Here

Fu Ju Min [21] Captain of the Qi.
Montgomery [19]
Zasha Venediktov [17] "Call me little again and I will bean you with this wrench."
Kiran [9] "I am far too pretty for this..."
Corvin Ross [7] Steady hands: the key to both patching wounds, and making new ones... from long range

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Charles nodded, reaching to clamp on his mask again. He did not desire for anyone outside the room of the shipyard to see him, otherwise attention would certainly be drawn.

Hearing the solid click and sigh of pressure adjustement, as well as a screen popping up with streams of information, was a comfortable sensation. Inside this helmet, he was Monolith; a massive, imposing figure which struck fear into all. The mask alone was a symbol of power, of an instillment of fear. And as he knew very well, fear, above all else, razed great empires like no other weapon ever could.

The mechanical voice was yet another comfort as he spoke. "That would be desireable. I may be a former Operative, but to this day I am one who has remained firmly grounded."

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Zasha Venediktov took a deep breath as she walked up to the ship, holding everything she owned in two packs. One, on her back, carried her personal items, and the second bigger bag she carried in her right hand held her tool box and all kinds of spare parts she'd picked up in her journeys. Even if they didn't fit the ship perfectly, most of them could be used to jerry-rig something until the proper part was found. Any time she had a bit of extra money and a good market, she picked up a thing or two, in faith that she would eventually have a place for it. Her brown leather pants and tall boots were good for resisting wear and tear, but in the heat she'd taken off the matching leather jacket to reveal a white tank top. She had overalls in her bag for when she actually had to get into the engine and get dirty, but otherwise she liked to present a tough front, and baggy overalls made her look even smaller and cuter than she was, not a good first impression for a new captain. Her guns were worn on her thighs, just to ensure that no one in this place thought that her size made her defenseless.

Her last job had lasted a record length for her, over a year, but as usual something had gone wrong. The Alliance hadn't broken up the crew, nothing so dangerous, but personality conflicts and the lack of paying jobs had driven everyone apart. She wasn't too worried about finding a job, usually someone wanted an engineer, but not everyone would hire a girl who looked like space could break her. Besides, she was getting uneasy about being planetbound, it'd been a week since she'd landed from her last job, and it wasn't as if she had a bunch of money in a bank somewhere to keep her going. No, she needed a job, and even if it didn't pay much beyond food and board it could keep her learning and moving around the 'Verse. She'd heard this ship was hiring, and hadn't heard much bad about its Captain--or much information at all, really--so it was worth a shot.

"Excuse me," she said in a faint Russian accent. "Is this ship looking for an engineer? I heard you might be hiring on a new crew."

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Image "This'll be your first time out of Atmo?" Ju Min could see her expression, a mix of incredulity and surprise, in Monolith's helmet. She had taken a few people on their first time off-planet, and it was always an adventure. "Lucky me. I'll make sure to get you a bucket in case you get sick when we hit the Black." She flashed him a smirk as she began to lead him to the docked Qi.

Artificial gravity had made the transition much easier for new fliers, but there was always that one person whose body reacted badly to the artificial gravity. Apparently there was some sort of minor difference somewhere in the inner ear that could pick up on the artificial-ness and would send the body into a panic. The last medic she'd known explained that it was an attempt by the body to purge possible poisons or hallucinogens, which the dry-heaving passenger had found humorous, in between retches.

She chuckled to herself at the memory, stopping as a soft voice tinted with the weight and smoothness of a Russian accent. She turned to see a svelte girl with long, dark hair. Ju's eye quickly picked up the girl's guns strapped to her thighs. An interesting choice, to display arms so outwardly. Whoever this girl is, she had some steel to her, even if it was just the stuff on her legs. More interesting to Ju Min though, was what the girl was asking. An actual engineer. Someone who was qualified to work with the Qi's engines who would stay on the ship. The ship deserved such attention, but she'd never been able to give it that.

Just how desperate was this girl that she was willing to take on a job like this?

"We're hiring alright. And an engineer would be damn appreciated. You're interested?"

Having walked around the outside of the ship, Montgomery picked up his footlocker and made his way to the cargo ram were Ju was. "Ma'am, reporting..." He trailed off as he spotted the all to familiar look of an Alliance operative. He quickly throw his hood up, "Were can I throw my gear?" As he said that he took an other quick look at the operative, then looked back at Ju. "Then if you don't mind I would like to start to familiarize myself with the ship and her systems." He set his footlocker down and slowly clicked off the safety on one of his pistols then picked up his footlocker again. "That is if we're not expecting trouble ma'am." He said as he nodded in the direction of the operative.


"I would be," she replied, "assuming your ship is heading out of dock soon. I'm not good on land, and there are other ships that might be coming in if I'm not to your liking."

And, if she stayed planetbound too long, the odds went up that someone would find her that she'd rather not see. As well as the unfortunate fact that most ships would only hire girls her age for assistants, or worse, and very few would chance giving her the position as main engineer. If this Captain was willing to give her that power, she'd stick around. If not, it would just be another temporary stop as she worked her way up to the big ships with better money. Money wasn't everything, but it did come in handy, especially if you had to hide from the Alliance double quick.

"I'm a good engineer, and even though I look young I've been doing this for years," she said urgently as her blue-grey eyes looked into the Captain's. "I don't cause trouble as long as no one gives me any, and I'm good in a fight. If you're looking for someone to have main responsibility for your engines and mechanics, I'm the engineer for you."

Monty smiled under his balaclava at being called Monty and at the image of an operative vomiting in his own helmet. He nodded at Ju, "As you say ma'am." He then looked at Monolith, "Operative." then turns back to Ju, "I'll secure my gear here for now if that's ok?" As he finished saying that, a man wearing a pair of cargo shorts, a tank top, and a dufflebag slung over his shoulder walks up to them. The man nodded at Monty who respectfully returned the nod. After which he set his footlocker off to the side in the cargo hold and walked back to the group. He stood a little ways a way from the group so not to crowed the captain, awaiting orders or at less being dismissed.

"I'll get aboard then, start getting settled in and acquainted with the engines." She held out her hand for the captain to shake. Nodding politely to the other crew, and ignoring the wink entirely, she headed to the interior of the ship. It was always best not to encourage anything of that kind until she knew what to expect from the rest of the crew. Zasha had, on more than one occasion, dealt with men who thought that just because she was small and female that she was easy prey. With a female captain that might not be an issue as much, but she didn't want to rock the boat before everyone was even acquainted yet. Best to be polite but dismissive until she had taken everyone's measure, unless of course someone pissed her off while she was trying to be professional. They already had an Operative aboard judging from that helmet and uniform, as well as a few others that looked like they could handle themselves--including the captain--so she also didn't want to make a bad impression.

The engines were about as she expected, for the ship's class and model. She'd thrown her things down in a corner of the cargo bay, if this ship was like any other the captain would assign bunks according to whim or would make it first come first serve. Zasha wasn't picky about quarters as long as she had a bit of space for her parts, so she preferred to wait to be assigned or simply shoved into whatever small area was left. She'd taken this tack in most of the ships she'd been on, and it had proved to be the best way to keep from getting into a fight with an idiot about something meaningless like an inevitably cramped space on a cramped ship. If she had to kick ass and take names, she preferred to do it about something more important.

Zasha took a small tool belt out of her pack and slung it around her waist. This one just carried the basics, general wrenches and bolts, that sort of thing, for the kind of basic maintenance work she'd be likely doing on a daily basis to keep the engines running as smoothly as they could possibly be. In the Black, there were no margins of error. There was a thin hull and these engines keeping the crew from certain death, and she didn't want to be the one that failed. She checked the drives carefully, noting that they'd been maintained well and everything looked like it didn't have any long-term issues. True, she wasn't exactly taking an in-depth examination, but the engines indicated that the captain and current crew were at least competent. Later she would take readings off everything, note what was and wasn't running at optimum levels, but for now she wanted to just cover the bases. Even though it looked like that had already been done. These were her engines now, and her responsibility. She would leave nothing to chance.

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Charles shrugged. "A captain in your line of work must find themselves in dangerous situations some fair amount." He paused, unlocking his faceplate once more and taking a quick breath of fresh (if slightly metallic) air. "How is the Qi equipped to handle such situations? Armaments, 'special modifications', etc? Because in all my years of work I've seen every weapons and evasion system under the blue sun, and I'd rather make sure yours fit into the variety that can stumble pursuers."

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Looking around Corvin felt no one else was quite as troubled as he was about having an Operative along for the ride. Maybe the lot of them were a little more used to rubbing elbows with the Alliance than he was. Or... more likely, there was more to the situation that he didn't know yet.

He listened to Ju's description of the ship as he moseyed around the upper deck, taking in the what would be his home for a while. As he walked he noticed the ribbon of smoke trailing off the end of his cigarette bending slightly towards the vents set in the wall every few feet. "Air filtration seems solid," he noted to no one in particular. He knew it was a weird thing to note, so he offered No-One In-Particular an explanation. "Boats we used in the war had second rate filtration. My squadron once traded prisoners with the Alliance. They had infected our guys with an airborn virus before giving them back. By time we realized... I was only able to treat half the crew. We had to shove the rest out of an airlock. Not the best day ever." But besides a counter measure for admittedly unlikely biological attacks, good air filtration meant he wouldn't have to worry about his second hand smoke irritating the other passengers.

He took note of the captain telling them twice not to go into the port-side bay. Space spiders. Right. Naturally this made him curious. Was she hiding something in the port-side bay? Illegal contraband maybe? Valuables of some sort? Or maybe it was a test to see which among them couldn't follow simple instruction. Either way, he knew it was going to bother him until he found out.

By the time Ju had finish her speech Corvin was in the med bay looking through the drawers and cabinets, checking the labels on all of the supplies, getting familiar with what he'd have at his disposal. It was more than he was used to.

He decided it would be a good idea to lay claim to a bunk early on, so when he was done checking out the medbay he made his way further bow, picked a room, and tossed his duffle next to a bed. He laid down on his back and stared up at the ceiling for a moment. He'd been on-world for so long... it would be quite an adjustment getting accustomed to life in The Black again.

Monty took a look around and nodded. This time with a hint of his German accent, "Isolated bridge near the captains cabin, fast and maneuverable, cant wait to get acquainted with Qi." He rubbed a hand on the bulkhead, "What do you think Qi? Ready to fly together?" He looked at the agent, "What's wrong purple-belly? Scared?" At Ju, "She is a mighty fine ship ma'am. Permission to take the helm?" Not worried about a bunk, if need be he could sleep on the bridge, not that it would be the first time he had to do that. Most of his gear he could carry on him or could leave on the bridge. Monty felt a little out of, being planet side for so long, but he was eager to fly again. He always hated having ground under him, he preferred the black. On top of that, he doesn't trust the others, expressly the purple-belly. He leaned against the bulkhead letting a hand drop to his gun, even thou the captain said there would be no trouble he wasn't letting his guard down for a second.

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When asked about the Hippocratic Oath, specifically the 'do no harm' clause, Corvin nodded to the rifle propped against the wall near the head of his bed. "I missed that day of med school."

"Don't take this the wrong way uh -- I didn't actually catch your name -- but, at first glance, you don't really seem cut out for life in The Black."Judging from his reaction to clapping, Corvin didn't want to see how he reacted when they fired up the engines and blasted off into space.

When it came to patching people up, the patient was just as important as the medic. All treatment aside some wounds you just have to be one stubborn, bullheaded, tough-nosed, son of a bitch to survive. Corvin had seen a few people die in his arms from wounds he knew they could've fought through. Some people just didn't have the will and the fortitude to say no when their body begged for death. That was something he never wanted to see happen again. That, along with genuine curiosity is what motivated his next question. "If the captain is such a life ruiner, why fly with her? lots of other ships blasting off this rock. It's not a bad place to sit for a minute either, so long as you don't mind the Alliance slowly crawling up your ass."

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Former Companion. That figured. The rest of what he said was fairly interesting. An ex-boyfriend tried to sell the captain out to the Alliance... so there was a price on her head. A price high enough for the rest of her crew to turn on her? Corvin thought on that for a moment and tried to tie it in with a few of the port-side bay conspiracy theories he had dreamed up since laying down.

"I once had to cut four bullets out of a guy's chest with a combat knife. We were fresh out painkillers and sedatives," He said after Kiran asked for painkillers. "So as you can imagine... I don't like to... waste supplies." He trailed off some as he spoke. True enough if a Browncoat was ever caught using up med supplies to treat something as minor and self inflicted as a hangover during war time he'd have been given a real reason to need them... but Kiran, Corvin reminded himself, wasn't a Browncoat, and this wasn't war time. They weren't behind enemy lines. They'd be able to land on any rock and re-supply. Corvin had never been off planet before, except during the war, and being back aboard a ship, he realized, had taken him back to that mentality.

Of course there was another more personal reason he didn't like to waste supplies, painkillers and sedatives particularly, but that was neither here nor there.

Corvin heaved a sigh, reached over to his duffle, and pulled out a pill bottle. It was mostly empty with a half dozen or so rattling around at the bottom. "Just take one," He said as he tossed the bottle in Kiran's general direction, eyes still facing upwards. "They're strong."

He heard the bottle clatter to the floor. When he looked back he realized Kiran was gone.

Just then another guy came in, intending to put his stuff there. "By all means." He climbed out of bed. "Monty right? I'm Corvin, the medic." He offered the other man a handshake. Corvin was glad for any roommate that wasn't the operative. Monty seemed to have a similar distaste for the guy, so Corvin couldn't see any reason why the two of them wouldn't get along just fine.

After greeting his new roommate he followed the path the pill container had taken on it's way out of the door and picked it up. The smell of cooking food caught his attention. He followed it to the kitchen area where he saw Kiran and the mechanic -- also chef apparently -- interacting. He'd seen a lot in his day, but he'd never seen an actual male companion in pursuit. He'd always kinda wondered what tactics they might employ. He posted up against the wall and watched the master at work.

Zasha's other hand clenched on her gun. This was certainly a lot more forward than she was used to any of the crew or passengers being, and the way his chest was sculpted--too hard to avoid, at her height--was either incredible genetics or long hours of work. Between that and his manner, it made it obvious why a guy like him was being so over the top with a short grease monkey.

"Companion." She blurted out, deliberately taking her hand off of her gun and stepping away. Zasha usually punched guys who took liberties with her, but this one wasn't groping, just flirting, and she couldn't afford to knee him in the junk before she knew how the Captain would react to it. No wonder the man was hard to resist, he was a trained seducer! "You must be a Companion, so you're a passenger, not crew?"

The sauce was about to boil over, so she hip-checked the man, bumping him out of her way so she could attend to it. Everything was just about ready to be thrown in a bowl and served, so she started looking through cupboards to find a bowl big enough. Or a pot, she wasn't fussy. The top cupboards were a bit too high so she climbed onto the counter to keep looking, hoping Kiran would take a hint and she wouldn't have to get violent. The next time he tried to put his hands on her, no matter how nice-looking he was, she would have to make an example of him. The worst thing would be for everyone else to see him flirting with her and assume she was some kind of fresh meat, and as she turned to open another cupboard she groaned to see the medic watching them.

No choice, then, she would have to get rough, just to keep the crew's respect. Zasha turned, and thanks to standing on the counter could actually look down on him to his eyes while she narrowed her own. "Look, govno, I'm the engineer, not one of your little play-pretties, and I don't have time for this fèihuà. I've been nice so far, out of respect, but your pretty face is gonna be a bit uglier if you keep pushin' me. Dohn-luh-ma?" Sure, he was beautiful, and if she'd met him while planetbound she wouldn't mind giving him a tumble, but the rules were different in the Black, especially with a new crew. She couldn't afford to lose face just because Kiran wanted to, well, whatever his motives were. She'd never had enough money to hire a Companion, so she had no idea how they worked.

Monty set his gear on the empty bunk thinking of how little he will probably be in here, due to not trusting anyone yet. He turned and shook Corvin's hand, "Nice to meet you." Then seeing that he was in the middle of something, Monty gave him a respectful dismissive nod and gone back to setting up his bunk. He secured his rifle, throw his shotgun over his shoulder so he could secure it on the bridge, and made sure the safeties were on everything. As he stepped out of the cabin on his way to the bridge, he smelled the food in the galley. It had been a long time since he smelled such delicious food that he could legally eat. Forgetting that he was caring his shotgun or that he had been on his way to the bridge, Monty made his way to the galley. Upon entering he saw Corvin holding a girls red hand and a pretty boy doing... what ever pretty boys do. "Ma'am. Doc." Took a look at Kiran and sized him up, "Kai Tze? Lao Tien Fu." Turned back to the girl, "You have my thanks ma'am. You need anything you let Montgomery know." After that Monty takes a seat and serves himself some food.

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."

Monty called the tower, "This is the Qi, requesting permission to depart." The tower responded, "Qi your departure has been delayed." A worried look came across his face, "Requesting information on delay." "Lawmen want to search any outbound ships. Their looking for an alliance run away. Apparently this guy, one Montgomery, is wanted as a deserter and a traitor, something about killing a ship full of alliance that he was piloting." The tower answered. A wave of fear over took Monty and without a second thought. "All hands brace for evasive maneuvers. Engine room standby for hard lift." He turned the gav drive and reaction drive on, put the pulse drive on standby. Once he saw the lawmen headed towards the ship he hit the reaction dive to fast burn, not quite hard burn, all the way to the horizon then turned hard up and went to full burn till they hit the black. Were he switched to the pulse drive and plotted a course that have them weaving around a few planets to mask their heading. Using the gravity of planets to alter course well maintaining if not enhancing speed. Monty smiled, "There not to hard and..." looked at the fuel levels. "Um used less fuel then I thought. All set captain, with the dust cloud that made and the odd course we shouldn't have any problems." He called the engine room, "Thanks for the help. Everything ok down there?"


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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."

#, as written by conor
Mason was barely in his seat with the buckle fastened when the ship jolted forwards at sickening speeds. Although his past employment prepared him for this situation it was still a shock. After everything had subsided he unbuckled the belt and waited for the room to clear. Once more he glanced down at his watch and scowled quietly. Time was pressing, the more time wasted the more the plan was delayed.

Quietly he worked his way down to the cargo bay, looking around to make sure he wasn't being followed. Once down there he moved to his bags. He let out a sigh of relief when the contents of the second bag seemed undamaged. Smiling to himself and he propped his back against the wall looking out at the cargo bay. With a quick heave he produced a portable communications console. Resting it on the floor in front of him he produced a cable from the bag too. Slotting it into the back of the machine produced a satisfying click. The other end of the cable would be more problematic. He searched around the cargo bay until he found what he was looking for. A comms socket, tucked neatly off to his left. Once he had finished plugging the wire in he went back to the console and opened it up.

The screen flickered to life leaving a blue glow emanating from Masons face. Messages began filtering through, quite a number. They were all encrypted using an old forgotten language from 'earth that was' so no one sniffing for clues could read the contents, the destination or the source of the message. Studying the list of messages Mason picked out one in particular from a captain George Yun, Alliance navy and opened it up.

Zasha made a sour face at Kiran, wrinkling her nose in the process. "Merely making sure that you're not messing up my engine room," she shot back.

Walking over, she stood in the right spot to catch the hammer when he was finished getting it off the ceiling. She was growing a bit tired, but since she'd had a few lazy days while being ground bound she had a bit of energy to spare. And anyway, it wasn't as if watching Kiran work was a chore. The only thing she had to make sure of was that he didn't drop it on her head!

"By the way," she asked, watching him struggle with the screws, "is there anything I need to watch out for on this ship? Things that don't work like they usually do, things that will set the Captain off, stuff like that. You've been on here for a while, right? So you know how all this stuff works."

If Kiran had that kind of information, it would sure save her a lot of time. And he might just tell her he didn't know anything, or just brush her off. He seemed talkative, which is why she'd tried in the first place, and appeared to at least be willing to be friendly (if not more, but again, ex-Companion) so it was worth a shot. In addition, if there was something really wrong with the ship or its captain it would be nice to find that out now so she could get out at the next stop. Well, make that the captain. Ships she could fix.

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Charles waded through... ghosts. Souls. Darkened spirits, clawing at his legs, his armour, which could with luck totally negate small-calibre bullets, tearing itself off like tissue paper, useless against these ethereal abominations.

Every twisted, contorted face was a memory. A victim. Some were murderers, rapists, slave traders. Others were innocent scientists, politicians... children. They all glared at Charles, their eyes filled with hate, vengeance, despair...

But at the end of this row, there stood a solitary figure. Her.

She only looked on with a world-shattering sadness, her long, impossibly dark hair flowing in an invisible breeze, as she stared right through Charles's helmet.

She did not look with hate, vengeance, or despair.

She looked with understanding.

#, as written by conor
Harry looked at the map carefully. He looked up again once the pilot had spoken to him. "Well if you ask me, just by looking at this map I can see a number of obvious choke-points." Mason pointed towards the corridors that led to the main command area. "It seems strange for an alliance outpost to be abandoned so far from, well anywhere really. Normally the Alliance doesn't just leave these things floating around for people like us to come find. I'd have expected our alliance operative here to know that. Maybe he knows more than I do about this facility. Maybe he knows exactly what's going on with it." Mason glared at the operative looking for a reaction.

"In any case I'd take my chances with a plague before an alliance trap, you can out run a plague. Alliance bullets on the other hand. Significantly harder to avoid." Mason shrugged his shoulders at the pilot and then reached behind his back. Underneath his suit jacket, tucked away inside is pants was a small revolver. He pulled it out and spun the cylinder slowly. "I wouldn't go in unarmed anyway. I'm sure this floating metal box we're about to board can withstand a few bullet holes before succumbing to an explosive decompression" Mason smiled and placed the revolver back from whence it came

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Charles narrowed his eyes at the two men.

"If I wanted to kill you, you would currently be indisposed to give me such hostility because you would be dead."

He scratched his chin briefly, reorganizing his thoughts as he looked off into space, and then resumed.

"There IS a potential issue, however. If the power is still online, chances are that the stationboard Artificial Intelligence is as well. All high-profile stations are equipped with them to facilitate basic functions such as door control, atmosphere levels, defenses, etcetera. In event of a disaster disabling all command crew, they are also able to assume control of the station. It most probably will not be amused by intruders, but... Captain, you mentioned you had interesting weaponry of sorts aboard the ship. Might an EMP bomb count among them?"

Monty nodded at 'the captain, "Ku, and captain, I didn't think you would send us in unarmed. But in the mean time if we are dismissed I will check my gear and make sure we are ready to dock. If you need me I'll be on the bridge." With that he stood up making his way to his room were he grabbed his rifle and headed to the bridge. Once there he sat at the controls and started programing in a few escape routes just in case things go south all he would have to do is start the ship and go. After making sure the ship is ready he started cleaning his guns, insuring they are ready to go. "Wonder if my 'partner' will come up for a talk. Also wonder how good or long this job will be before everything goes Gon Beh." he said as he cleaned his rifle.