Questionable Biddings [OPEN]

[murdo]

"Do you think I am a stupid man?" the words were sharp and greasy as they were uttered from between yellowing teeth. He was in a back room of his small shack of a business; if you could call it a business. The man in question was shaking his head from side to side vigorously.

"So why are you trying to buy me off with phony money?" He asked, pressing a knife to his victim's cheek. "You think I'm too yu bun duh to notice the difference between platinum and platinum-coating?"

"N-no," stammered the other, ceasing the shaking of his head, for the blade threatened to tear his skin should he move at all. "I didn't know, I swear I didn't, I was given it by someone else, I s-swear..." His eyes were wide and afraid; it was known that his keeper was not known for his tolerance.

The keeper was named Murdo Dunstan. In this back room, it was very dusty and dim, no real furnishings to speak of. It was serving its purpose right now; as an interrogation and storage room. Nothing more, nothing less. Murdo had draped a long brown trench coat over a chair, revealing a brown vest overlaying a darker brown button-up shirt, which was rolled up to his elbows. A rat poked curiously out from behind his hair, on top of which a dusty brown bowler hat was perched.

The heavy-lidded eyes of Murdo were boring into the other man's, x-raying him. After a pregnant silence, Murdo released the knife from his face and started laughing like a mad man. He put a hand to his knee for support as he laughed, and the man against the wall chuckled awkwardly, as if on the outside of an inside joke.

Then, without warning, Murdo had his gun drawn and the trigger had been pulled before the man even knew how to react. The rat at the nape of his neck flinched at the sound and Murdo reached around to pat it reassuringly.

"Funny," He muttered at the corpse, a laser-hole burnt into its forehead. "that's what the last piece of tzao gao told me, too."

Someone appeared in the doorway and he looked up at them with interest, returning the gun to its holster. "Someone's out here for ya," He informed. Murdo nodded and gestured to the body at his feet.

"Get rid of this, I'll take care of 'em." He instructed, grabbing the brown coat from the back of the chair and shrugging into it. He walked up a shallow set of stairs to the door that lead to the surface. The room that lay beyond was much more inviting than this one; the wall was littered with plaques and medals, commending his efforts in the war against the Alliance. He hadn't been able to show them off so openly until a few years ago, when the news about Miranda had been exposed. Any Alliance official who ordered him to take them down now would receive the finger. They didn't have the same authority they used to; authority, yes. But not as strong.

The rest of the office was an organized mess. Newspaper clippings and anti-Alliance sentiments took up the rest of the space that wasn't dedicated to his war medals. Despite the means of which he'd gotten them, Murdo was still proud of them. It let his clients know what side he was on, and what side he worked against. Any purple-bellied scum that entered his office was definitely not welcome.

There were people standing in his office and Murdo regarded them with a tip of his hat, sitting down behind a cluttered desk. He tossed the hat onto a heap of papers and Gerry peeked out from behind his head curiously. Ruffling his thinning hair, and placing his feet on the corner of his desk (revealing a cheap pair of penny-loafers), Murdo smiled his yellow smile up at them, as if he had not just committed murder in the basement.

"What can I do ya for?" He asked. Usually people came to him to transport stolen Alliance goods, of which he currently had a surplus of. On rare occasion, though, people came to him with proposals for jobs. He would keep an ear out.

[faye]

"How come you're wearing that today?"

"Murdo likes it when I wear it. Puts me in his favor."

"Am I going with you?"

"Not today, Del, okay?"

"How come? Murdo has aminals...I love aminals."

Faye Murphy looked down at her twin, the mirror image of herself sitting on the bed a foot and a half away from the real mirror she was standing in front of. Her cabin was just as small as the rest of the crew's, but enough -- Faye had never needed much space. Delilah's big blue eyes, identical to Faye's, looked disappointed, and Faye gave her a wry smile. "Next time, when we finish this job, okay, sweetie?"

Delilah's smile returned, and she nodded the way only a child could. That was Delilah: so childlike, a dreamer by nature. Faye jumped as something small and fuzzy skittered past her feet. The redhead clenched her teeth as she watched the puffball scurry up the foot of her bed and into the waiting hands of Delilah, absolutely delighted to see it.

Its name was Mairead and, because of an incident three hours ago involving a mysterious package, rain, and a blowdryer in the precarious hands of Delilah, it was the fluffiest little female rat any of the crew had ever seen. Mairead had been a gift sent from Murdo, who'd taken a liking to little Del when he'd last done business with the Riley, and apparently when he heard they'd be in today, he sent her a rat. It was a gift only Murdo would take joy in sending, and one that only Delilah would take joy in recieving. Faye still remembered the day the two of them had met -- it was the scariest, funniest, and strangest day she'd ever experienced at once. They'd been working with another ship, the Gallian, on a small job for him.

"He shot him," Michael, the first mate, muttered, staring at the corpse of an Alliance spy that had been posing as a bodyguard. Posing, that was, until Murdo Dunstan found out there was a purple-belly in his midst. "He just shot--"

"Shut up," the captain, Sten, snapped at him under his breath. All their hearts were racing, but Faye had learned how to hide fear by now. They had done the job he'd assigned them, and that's what gave her comfort now.

"On a more optomistic note," Faye said, only wanting to get this over with and get the hell out so she could vomit in peace, "we got the goods to Jiangyin. Marcello Batcher sends his regards." She dropped the burlap sack, containing Murdo's share, onto his cluttered desk. That was it. They were going to leave, and then --

"Awwww!"

Faye closed her eyes as the high note permeated through the silence. It could only belong to one person: Delilah. She stepped past Faye to look at the rat perched on the desk, to coo and aww as it scrambled up her arm, and to giggle excitedly as its whiskers tickled her face.

"Delilah, how did you --"

"He's so cuuute!" Del exclaimed, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet. She ignored Faye, of course, who by now was fighting back tears of fear for her innocent twin.

That day, Faye had expected Murdo to act protective, to attack Delilah to get back that ugly diseased-looking thing -- but no. Instead, he took a liking to little Delilah, and decided to send her an ugly diseased-looking thing of her own. Good god.

"I'm leaving, okay?" Faye said with a shake of her head, leaning down to kiss the top of Delilah's red hair. "Moira and Liam are gonna come while I'm gone. You can open the door for them, but no one else. I mean it, Delilah. They know the passwords. Remember them? You say flash--"

"And they say thunder."

"And if they don't--"

"I don't open the door."

"Good girl." Faye walked out the door and onto the Eavesdown Docks.

Persephone was a perpetually busy place, but it wasn't hard to find Murdo's place. When she stepped in, she was told to wait by a bodyguard, and she did. She was wearing her old brown army coat, the one with her rank and medals on it. She didn't usually wear it except to things where there would be lots of other vets around, but with Murdo, it seemed to help her chances of getting a job -- and she needed one of those right now. It just seemed to remind him that she was on his side all the way, that she wanted to screw over the Alliance just as much as he did.

And then he came in. Murdo Dunstan, psychotic lowlife and crime boss of Persephone. "Murdo," Faye greeted, flashing him the smile she was famous for, the smile that would make most men on this pathetic dock melt. Although she valued fair play, it wasn't a big secret that Faye was also a shrewd, conniving, sneaky businesswoman who wasn't afraid to use her natural beauty to her advantage. Though, now she thought of it, her skullduggery was probably part of the reason she and Murdo got along so very well.

"Heard a rumor you wanted to move some property off-world. Discreetly, of course," she said. "My ship is docked just down the harbor. We'd love to work out a job with you, if you have need of it."

[murdo]

Murdo grinned up at Faye, looking around to see if she brought any company. He felt a little crestfallen to see that she hadn't. It wasn't that she didn't bring company, it was that she didn't bring her identical twin, Delilah. Murdo had taken a liking to Delilah, as they both seemed to share the same love of animals. Animals were pretty much the only living things Murdo could relate to; he spoke to them as if they were the humans. He treated humans as he would the animals; he gave them jobs and sent them on their way.

There were a few exceptions to this rule, Delilah included. She was a prime example of a good person in Murdo's eyes. He had been looking forward to seeing how she got along with the "gift" he'd sent to her.

"She didn't bring her," He informed Gerry, who was cleaning himself on his shoulder. "I know, I wish she had too. I'm sure she's doing fine, though. I wouldn't have given her to someone I couldn't trust, trust me."

He brought his eyes up to Faye now, finally regarding what she had said, now speaking to her as if the whole conversation between he and his rat had not been heard. "I trust that little Delilah is getting on well with her new friend? Has she given her a name yet?"

Murdo then dropped his feet from his desk, sitting straighter in his chair. "And yeah, I got a job for you. It's another team operation, if you don't mind," He searched around on his desk for something. Of course Faye wouldn't mind; she better not, anyway. He found the sheet of paper he was looking for. It had a list of serial numbers on it; these numbers organized the numerous boxes he had stacked to the ceiling in his back-room. "It's too much for your boat to hold, so we're going to need another. I ain't in a mood to explain things twice, so I'll save the details for when another poor jien hwo to come lookin' for work. Until then, have a seat."

He propped his legs casually up onto the desk again now that they weren't talking business. A goat came trotting in from outside and made itself at home at Murdo's side. He greeted it as anyone else would greet a human. "Hey, John." he said affectionately.

[faye]

It was always awkward when Murdo started up conversations with his pets; it was like in junior high, when the cliques of girls started speaking in nonsense codes so that the uncool kids couldn't understand that they were making fun of them. So, when he started acknowledging Faye herself, she was keen to respond and keep the conversation flowing.

"Delilah's doing just fine, thanks. She's been beggin' me for a pet for years, so she was right ecstatic when she recieved your gift." Faye smiled; even if she hated that mangy little thing, she loved seeing Delilah happy. "She's named her Mairead, and they're getting along just wonderfully."

When he turned to business, so did she, stiffening slightly. Murdo's last job was the only one where she'd had to work with another ship, and that had gone less than swimmingly. But it sounded like he had a legitimate reason, and it probably wouldn't matter if he didn't; Faye would have to deal with it or not have the job at all.

"Too much cargo?" she asked in a conversational sort of way. She sat down in the wooden chair across from his desk as a goat wandered in. "What is the cargo, if I may ask?"

[murdo]

"What is the cargo, if I may ask?"

Murdo glared at her. "I said we're waitin' until I explain the details anymore. You just sit tight until then." He was leaning forward in his chair at her, and John the goat became weary of the mood change. Instantly Murdo softened and he leaned back in his seat, scratching the goat on the head. "No, nothin's wrong John, she just being an ignorant Tyen-sah duh uh-muo. Ain't nothin' new."

He turned his attention back to Faye, his slate cleared. "Mairead, now that's a fancy name! You'll have to bring her with you next time you come in here, Gerry wants to meet her."

It wasn't so much a suggestion as a demand; if she wanted to come back into this office, she'd better bring Delilah. Period. Murdo leaned back in his chair once more, as he was a fidgety sort of man. He put the rat named Gerry onto the desk and didn't say anything when it took a piece of paper in its small hands and started gnawing. Faye was one of his regulars; she never said anything when he did stuff like this. Hell, she was probably used to it by now.

[faye]

Faye raised her eyebrows at his vulgarity, but didn't say anything. He was right; it was nothing new. She always tested the waters, asked questions up to her limit, every time she came here. That being what it was, she was still quite happy when he turned his attention back to her and Delilah. Suddenly she was back in her element; Faye could talk and brag about Delilah till the cows came home (which, with Murdo, was always a possibility).

"...You'll have to bring her with you next time you come in here, Gerry wants to meet her."

"Oh, of course," she said with a smile. "She was actually quite sad when I told her she couldn't come today, but she made me promise she and Mairead could visit when the job's done. She adores you, y'know."

Gerry munched on the paper in front of her, and Faye realized she wasn't as disgusted by him as she was the one in her own ship, probably because she had always associated this place with that rat scurrying around everywhere; it was simply the nature of Murdo's place. With her ship, she was used to some form of order, which little Mairead contradicted in every way possible.

[hackanut]

Ryan and Danny-boy entered the shack of an office. It wasn't much to look at, but they'd get a job here, and that's all the mattered.

In front of them, a redhead sat facing away from them, towards a man Ryan presumed to be Murdo. There were a mess of papers on the man's desk, a rat gnawing on one of those papers, and a goat at his side.

'This guy's a nut.', Ryan thought to himself.

Murdo and the redhead appeared to be making small talk until they both realized two others were in the room.

Murdo looked up at him. Sensing that he could state his business, Ryan spoke. "We're here for work" He said, " -- don't much care what kind, 'long as it's payin'. Heard you were the man to go to 'bout that kind of stuff."

As Ryan spoke his gaze drifted to the medals on the wall. This 'nut', it seemed, was a Browncoat, and a genuine war-hero!

'Looks like we're in the right place', he thought to himself.

[stoot]

Stoot entered the dusky old shack with Ryan, feeling more at home here than he had on this planet so far. The cluttered state of the room was much like home for him. You could hardly walk around in his home on Higgins without knocking something over. The animal-smell, the eccentric man before them, the rat chomping paper on the desk, the redhead, and the war medals made Stoot forget about the brief conversation about Companions a few moments before. He still couldn't wrap his head around the need to be so jumpy around someone who was simply trained to have good sex.

He remained quiet when Ryan addressed Murdo, but he looked around in unashamed interest while his friend represented them. The medals and other various awards were impressive! At least there were no questions about what side this fella was on; he was a browncoat, through and through. Stoot took a moment to examine the other man's outward appearance. A dusty brown bowler sat in front of him on the desk and a goat rested its head on his lap as he stroked at its ears. The man had droopy blue eyes shadowed by sleepless nights and thin, sun-cracked lips. His hair looked to be about the length of Ryan's, except it was lighter and had a hint of premature gray running through it. Even though he was sitting, Stoot could see that Murdo was a thin, stringy man who probably didn't have any muscle to speak of; not that he would need it, Stoot surmised when he saw the holster poking out from under the long, brown coat he wore. Murdo probably never saw physical confrontation; he would end the fight before it got that far.

Stoot gulped at that thought. Unlike the man he was soon to call boss, he was better with his fists than a gun. He'd been really good with a gun in the war, way back when--he wouldn't have survived if he hadn't been--but now that he thought about it, he hadn't had to fire a weapon ever since. Home on Higgins' was just plain and boring. On Higgins', he'd been in plenty of bar fights and that was where his strength mainly came from. He had a feeling, though, that if he were paired up against Murdo, his size wouldn't matter. He kept this in mind, noting inwardly that he needed to brush up on his fire-fighting skills. It was going to be pretty important, now that he thought about it. It would be one of his first priorities once they got some free time on the boat.

The redhead in front of them caught Stoot's eye and he grinned at her. She was a purty little thing, albeit not purty in the same way Ursula had been. She was more Stoot's fancy; pretty without being intimidating about it, looked like she ate a few calories a day, and definitely looked like she would be able to handle herself if faced with a sticky situation. He wondered what a woman would be doing here, though, alone with Murdo Dunstan. He decided not to wonder this aloud; he was worried to wonder anything aloud when guns were involved. The man behind the desk did not look stable, but he did look friendly enough. He did not know what exactly to make of him...his feelings about Murdo were constantly changing in the small instant that he'd been observing him. What sort of business did this fella do?

[murdo]

"So why didn't you let Delilah come out for the job, then?" He asked conversationally, though his voice had a bite to it at the knowledge that she would deprive him of her sister. Faye knew that he didn't mind her being in his office. She never broke or touched anything, she was content to hang out with John and Gerry, and sometimes Tilda. In fact, Murdo preferred Delilah to Faye.

Fortunately for her, there wasn't a chance for her to respond. Murdo was distracted as soon as two men entered the room, the comical contrast between them very noticeable. There was a tall, lanky one who had a cool air about him. Then there was his companion, a round, hairy man with eyes filled with wonder. Murdo slapped the desk with one hand, the way one would slap their knee. Gerry flinched, but otherwise didn't react to his master's unpredictable actions. "Didn't I tell ya Faye? I knew there'd be another scoundrel or two out lookin' for work. Sorry I ain't got any more seats fellas." He leaned back in his chair, his holding his hands out to either side as a gesture to prove his lack of seating. "Now, what're your names again?" He looked them both over again, but otherwise carried the air of an old friend.

"We ain't take kindly to Allies here, I hope that's obvious enough. You boys take work from me...you ain't speakin' to, touchin' on, lookin' at Alliance while you're on the job. You want more jobs, you'll keep that rule in mind from here on out. We got an understandin' or am I gonna have to shoot ya in the face?" He took his gun lazily out of it's holster, propping an elbow on his desk and waggling it casually at them, as if it were just a toy. His sun-dried face then cracked into a grimy smile, and Murdo burst out into laughter.

"Liou koe shway duh biao-tze huh hoe-tze duh bun ur-tze," he said through wheezes of laughter, putting his gun back on his hip. John had removed himself from Murdo's side and had contented himself on gnawing on a piece of garbage near to where the two men were standing. There was really no reason for Murdo to be laughing so hard, nothing funny had happened. He seemed to find the idea of shooting them to be hilarious for some reason, though, and it took him a moment to sober himself before he continued.

"Hell, I ain't gonna shoot ya now. I got some goods in the back that needs your cargo space--judgin' that you do have a ship? You keep my warnin' in mind though," He was suddenly serious again. "I find out you makin' nice with Allies, you ain't makin' nice with me. I'll come down on you like tyen shiao duh."

[faye]

"Didn't I tell ya Faye? I knew there'd be another scoundrel or two out lookin' for work."

Faye rose to her feet, turning as she did and flipping her crimson locks behind her brown-clad shoulders. When Murdo pulled his gun, she held back a flinch; it always made her uneasy when he had his gun out, because Murdo was exactly the kind of guy who would blast you to oblivion whilst laughing like a maniac, and she would know -- Faye saw him do it once.

When Murdo was finished his anti-Alliance speech, it was time for Faye to have her turn. She'd been surveying them. They were men. Big men. The tall one, the one who was apparently in charge, was gangly-looking, but strangely familiar; she couldn't quite place his face. His partner was a short, stocky man, much more friendly as he flashed Faye a grin. He didn't look like the brightest crayon in the box; probably from some border moon. Come to think of it...she scanned him again.

'A-ha!' she thought, seeing the giveaway light-colored mud caked on his boots. Higgin's Moon was a three-hour ride from McKinleigh -- the mudders that could afford to get to the harbor at New Balfast, even the well-off ones, had that same mud on their boots.

"Hello, boys," she greeted coldly after Murdo was finished talking, her usual McKinlian (Irish) accent think in her voice. She rested her hand on her hip in a nonchalant way, but made sure her wrist moved her coat enough out of the way to reveal her pistol without mentioning it. Faye had to do this every time she met someone new, especially male; the stout man's smile was friendly and all, but with this woman, respect came before niceties. "I'm Captain Faye Murphy. I own and operate the Riley, out on the dock. Pleasure to meet the both o' you."

[OOC: Wasn't "Higgin's Moon" actually called Canton?
-scratches head-
I could've sworn it was...
-runs off to get Firefly DVD to check-]

[hackanut]

"My names Ryan Hannigan, Captain of the Atlas. This here's my first mate, Daniel Stoot."

Ryan stood ready for trouble, he was a little uneasy at the mans apparent tweakedness, but he was ready nonetheless. He was glad he hadn't found his coat back on the ship -- easier to get at the pistol hanging under his armpit. That gun was his very favorite gun, got it right before the war from a vendor just a stones throw from where he was standing now. It was a recreation of a Webley Revolver, outfitted with a gas-redirection cylinder under the barrel to give it more power and also a more balanced feel. He'd only fired it once during said war -- but that was another story entire.

"We ain't take kindly to Allies here... We got an understandin' or am I gonna have to shoot ya in the face?"

Murdo had drawn his gun and was waving it loosely at Ryan and Stoot.

"Oh, ze zhen shi ge kwai le de jing jun... we've got a whole heap 'o understandin', sir. We ain't taken a likin' to the Purples yet and I doubt such feelings are itchin' to crop up any time soon, shiny?"

Ryan was relieved when Murdo holstered his gun, admitting he wasn't going to gun them down -- he was sure to reinforce the fact that he would if ever Ryan had a change of heart. All of the anti-alley sentiments had made Ryan feel quite secure, in a way. He Hoped Danny-boy wasn't too on edge either -- they didn't need any problems right now.

Murdo's antics were immediately put to the back of his mind when the redhead introduced herself.

"Hello, boys." She said, standing up. Ryan could tell she was McKinlian -- on Earth-that-was, they'd called that being Irish. "I'm Captain Faye Murphy. I own and operate the Riley, out on the dock. Pleasure to meet the both o' you."

"Pleased to meet you as well, Miss Murphy." Ryan said, tipping the hat he wasn't wearing at her and focusing his attention back to Murdo. "If it's all the same to you, I'd think it a kindness if we could get to business. I've got a powerful' odd boy fixin' my ship as we speak -- like to get back before too long."

[murdo]

"That's what I like to hear," Murdo said with a yellow smile when Ryan assured him that they were not the type to fraternize with the Alliance. The last guy who'd done that was being dragged off and disposed of right now.

Faye stood to greet her new partners-in-crime and Murdo watched in interest as she did so, scooping Gerry up and rubbing his head affectionately with his forefinger. His eyes glassed over with non-thought as he did so, bored already of the small exchange between captains. Once Ryan addressed him again, however, Murdo snapped back to the-now.

"If it's all the same to you, I'd think it a kindness if we could get to business. I've got a powerful' odd boy fixin' my ship as we speak -- like to get back before too long."

Murdo stood from his seat, his rat in one hand. The other hand was busying itself with pointing accusingly at Ryan, his demeanor being on the offense again. "You don't tell me when to start business, you hwoon dahn. I don't give a lick who you got on your boat, s'long as they aren't purple, you hear? You are on my rock now, Hannigan."

He glared for a long moment at the Atlas captain before straightening and brightening again. Gerry crawled up to his shoulder where he usually perched himself during a business deal. "Now, if y'all are done getting' cozy in my place o' business, we'll talk the job. Follow me." he suggested it as if Ryan hadn't. He now lead them, not waiting for approval, as he pushed open the door that lead to his basement area.

"Oh I know," he said to no one. It was Gerry he was talking to again. "Can't get anyone who's worth a damn out here anymore. Always the same ol' quacks comin' in for their first time out. Just our luck, Gerry. Just our luck. Watch your step," He now spoke to his company as he stepped over a small puddle of blood. "Thought I told him to clean this gou shi up," he thought aloud to himself. "Useless."

"This is what we got," He said, gesturing to the back wall of the spacious room. Stacked floor-to-ceiling were heavy black crates with the Alliance seal on them. "They ain't light, you'll have to use dollies, I ain't supplyin'. Riley gets half and Atlas gets half, sounds fair. Neither your boats would hold the entire shipment. You're to be takin' it to Whitefall. Nice lady named Patience will be waitin' for ya. I won't lie," He said as he turned to face them, leaning an elbow against one of the crates. "Patience ain't gonna be hospitable. Bring your guns and make it back in one piece, I'll have another job for ya when you're back. I got more where this came from."

He thought for a moment before something seemed to dawn on him. "Ah, right Gerry. Payment. You get the payment from Patience, you kill her if you haveta. I know how much so if you try and trick me you won't be livin' long to enjoy it. I get two-fourths, you two get the other half to split. Roughly 1500 platinum each for you to split how you need with your crew. Ain't sayin' Patience is a rich woman. The next job will be worth more, I can assure ya."

Murdo looked from one face to the next now, seeming to ask if they had any questions. "Faye you know how it works, but you new scum need to know. You run into trouble," He added, "you die before you utter my name, shiny? Get back to me as soon as you can, I ain't accustomed to waitin' and I ain't gonna start for a couple a hwoon dahn like yourselves."

[faye]

"Pleased to meet you as well, Miss Murphy."

A flicker of indignation played in Faye's eyes for a moment. "Captain Murphy, if you please, friend," she said, her voice frigid. "Miss Murphy is me twin sister, and I'm not nearly that friendly."

She could tell he was just trying to be a gentleman, but as far as Faye was concerned, she was to be treated as a captain and equal to him, if not superior. She was happy when the attention turned to the job; that was at least one point where they had a common interest.

As she stepped over the small puddle of blood, Faye was reminded once more of who Murdo could be, and what could happen to her were she to get on his bad side. Or, worse yet, what could happen to Delilah if he were to suddenly lose interest in her. That wasn't likely to happen, but it was Faye's nature to always think of the worst case scenario. She gave a glance at the two from the Atlas, trying to send them the message not to react to the grotesque things they'd see with Murdo.

"You're to be takin' it to Whitefall. Nice lady named Patience will be waitin' for ya."

Great. Bloody wonderful. Patience was a miserable old bat, surly and brutal. Faye held back a groan as she looked around at the huge crates. That was a lot of hauling they'd have to do, and she'd planned on getting under way by sunset...

"Thanks, Murdo, we can take it from here. You'll have your money within two weeks. Have I ever let you down?" She flashed him that winning smile again, and before he could answer, she added, "I'll give Delilah your regards, yeah?"

[hackanut]

"You don't tell me when to start business, you hwoon dahn... You are on my rock now, Hannigan."

Ryan was taken back by Murdo's sudden mood swing. He supposed that was the nature of this new beast... he'd have to get used to it quickly.

"Yes sir, we got an understandin', complete and whole."

His words seemed to satisfy the man. Ryan couldn't help but roll his eyes when Murdo went on to suggest exactly what he had moments earlier; he wondered if Murdo even realized what he was saying. 'This man really is crazy...', he thought

"Captain Murphy, if you please, friend..."

Ryan had always thought it proper to call a lady, Captain or not, 'Miss' --Faye seemed to disagree on that point.

"Didn't mean any disrespect, Captain Murphy, just bein' kind is all. I ain't thinkin' you lesser 'cause I attach 'Miss' to ya."

Murdo began to lead them to the basement, and they all followed. Ryan observed how the man communicated with his animals as if they were humans, if not better than. "Watch your step.", Murdo called, finally speaking to them. He was referring to the puddle of blood at their feet. Blood never really bothered Ryan that much, he'd seen his share of it in the War. He made an extra wide step, catching Faye's eye as he did so. He gave her a smile as if to say he was ignoring the blood on the floor.

They finally came to the basement, and the cargo that filled it. Wall to Wall with Alliance goods, it was. Made Ryan a might proud that his first job would be working against the Purples -- what better thing was there to do these days anyway?

"You're to be takin' it to Whitefall. Nice lady named Patience will be waitin' for ya."

Before Ryan had a chance to reply, Faye took charge. He smiled as she spoke, it was nice to see they'd be working with such an experienced Captain, and from the sounds of this Patience lady, they'd be needing all the experience they could get.

[murdo]

Murdo nodded at Faye as she spoke. "You make suren' bring that sister of yours back with you," He reminded her, "S'rude to give someone a present and then not let 'em come to properly thank ya. You ease up on that sister a-yours, Faye, she ain't a baby." Murdo didn't see the childish quality in Delilah that everyone else seemed to, and therefore found it preposterous that Faye protected her as such. His eyes then went blank for a moment, lost within his own mind. It was blank as well.

When the lights came back on, he looked at the three people before him and raised his eyebrows. "I ain't payin' you fellas to stand there, get your pee-goo outta here!" He shoved away from the crates and started back towards his office. The captains would be providing their own dollies and loading the ships themselves. He wasn't going to pay them for his labor.

Murdo re-entered his office and placed the rat back on the desk, where it scurried over to a small hut he had made out of paper mach-et. John the goat had apparently left the hut when they had gone to the back room, but he re-entered now at a trot, as a large black lab chased it in.

"Tilda, you play nice now!" He called, though there was a note of humanity in his voice that he didn't typically have. It was as if he were speaking to two rivaling siblings.

He resumed his relaxed position with his feet propped on the corner of the desk. Replacing the hat on his head, Murdo took a bar of soap out of a desk drawer and the knife from his sleeve. Whistling as he worked, he began whittling at the soap, not bothered by the shavings that fell into his lap. As the captains and the first mate exited together, Murdo ignored them and continued working. If they had any questions, they should have asked by now. They would be ghosts to him until they came back with his payment.