The Winds of Change }{ [Sojourn Crew]

[bigfeely]

Mikiel listens as Rick asks, "Tell me, what skills do you have that warrant being on a crew?"

"I am trained in both ranged and hand-to-hand combat, and am willing to fight. I'm also trained in reconnaissance, as well. I am a mercenary like you."

Mikiel looked around for the man that had walked away from Rick a moment before. Who is that? he wondered. He looked like he could handle himself in a fight. He must be Rick's right-hand man. Must've been in the military for a while, carries himself like a soldier. Probably a... bodyguard, maybe. He seems more of a tough guy. He looked back at Rick. "Those are my qualifications." Mikiel then ordered a waiter to get him some cocoa.

[Roark Wilder]

"Well, since you seem to know her, why don't you go over and ask her to join us?" Roark nodded at Ryder's suggestion. Betraying his old-fashioned upbringing, he turned to Sian as he prepared to leave the table: "Pardon me miss." Rising from the table, the merc took his cup of tea along with him, raising it in the Companion's direction in a show of thanks. He moved past a man heading in the opposite direction, the former becoming aware after a moment that the latter was approaching Ryder's table. Wilder resisted the temptation to glance over his shoulder to see what was going on and instead continued on, seating himself next to the one-and-only, Ceren Aatos.

"Didn't figure you for a coffee shop kind o' gal," Roark remarked offhandedly. Playing it cool just for kicks, he ordered a small breakfast pastry and removed his tight-fitting tactical gloves before looking at her or saying anything else. Working together aboard the Orlando, Roark and Ceren had developed a certain kind of chemistry. As fellow mercenaries, they had trusted and respected one another, Aatos having took Wilder as her First Mate when she had been forced to serve as the Firefly's interim-Captain. Such bonds were rare in Roark's experience, and he was glad to see his former ship-mate again. Smiling briefly, Wilder mused. He had prepared himself for the change when it had become apparent that the crew of the Orlando would be parting ways. He had been a drifter for more than a decade, he was used to it. But amidst all the changes life had brought him in the last several weeks, Wilder was glad to find something familiar.

[Ceren Aatos]

Unaware she was something of a local spectacle, Ceren was still resting her head glumly in her hands. Footsteps had been heard, offhandedly, but didn't register they were coming her way until she heard the voice. Immediately, out of sheer habit whenever she recognised a voice, her hand reached within that old coat. Another few beats before she realised it was a bad recognition. A few more before she put the voice to a name, and then that name was placed to the face she now glanced at briefly. Roark Wilder. With the general safety of a friendly face of all things, Ceren relaxed, though still a little tense in the shoulders. As if it were an awkward meeting; to see a person you'd let go as crew in order to send everyone their separate ways. Ceren had promised it was for the best-- that moving on would create a better chance for all of them opposed to struggling to run a ship she never asked to run. Maybe the majority of it had been selfishness... disbanding the small crew that had remained. Stuck by her, as it were. She weren't no Bulletproof Barrow. No former Browncoat leader with the inspiration to carry those she knew to safety. Always a mercenary first, and anything else second. A small, crooked smile twisted the corner of her lips, finding light humour in this chance meeting.

"Full'a surprises, Wilder." She noted in regard to his little comment.

Finally, Ceren Aatos lifted her weary head from her hands, and brushed back her short, unruly dark hair. The red highlights had faded away over time. She gave him a glance up and down. Assessing how well he was doing for himself these days. He didn't look like she did, that was a fact. But, then if he did, he'd be a mess of a she.

"So maybe all that gou shi I said about things bein' more prosperous for us as individuals was kinda me talkin' outta my pigu, huh?"

Someone had to mention it, and while he was finding amusement in all of this, she had to point out the obvious. Ceren went to sip her coffee, and noticed he had tea. A small jealous glance before she sipped on her own drink. A slight wince of distaste was made before it was set back down.

"So what's new?"

Wouldn't it be funny if he'd been hired to come 'deal' with her for some past discretion? Well... not ha ha funny...

[Rick Ryder]

Ryder simply shook his head and smiled pleasantly. Another fighter, big deal. Anyone can punch someone out or shoot a gun. It's almost a must now-a-days to know at least that but, I'll give this guy a chance. Not like I have much of a choice right now. Might do us well to have a bit of backup too he thought wryly, his spirits raised at how much interest he was generating. He was really glad for that but, the one thing he needed right now, was a medic and a mechanic.

He had a Companion that was interested and a possible First Mate, that was a good start. He had a feeling Roark would join him and accept the responsibilities of being his First Mate. Why else would he accept a request to go get, what once must have been a fellow crew member, from a previous ship?

"Alright, well, while it's good to have a knowledge of self defense. Is there any other skills you might have? Hobbies even? And there's the question of how well you take orders. Can you do you as you're told whether you agree with the decision or not?" Ryder asked taking a drink of his tea and raising an eyebrow. He stole a glance in Wilder's direction as the two past ship-mates started conversing and smiled. Everything was going well, for once. I just might get myself a crew and a new line of work yet he thought happily.

[Rainea Cross]

Alliance territory, though this planet wasn’t a core planet, she still felt as though she was too close to shark infested waters. If only the brown coats had won the war. Then, perhaps, things would have met a real change. There would be no Reavers, and everything would have their chance at freedom. However, as she was now noticing, all freedoms came at a cost.

The cost was almost always too high. The loss of her men, her lack of training as a medic when the war first hit. Everything took its toll, and with each mistake she made, she vowed never to make it again.

Rainea walked the streets her arms crossed and her thumb rubbing the tattoo on her shoulder as her memories took over her conscious thinking. The war was pointless in some respects, no one groups should have had complete control. Now, the Alliance could interfere or ignore those that they saw fit to.

When she came across the café she stopped. ‘Might as well stop for a drink.’ The simple thought of a drink made her smile. She had promised herself only days before she was going to find something better than whiskey to drink while she looked for a job. As she stepped inside she was greeted by her normal waitress who hugged her on sight. “Hello Doctor, did you find your job?”

She shrugged, "Not yet, no luck since you asked yesterday." Rainea gave the girl a smile before taking her normal seat near the middle of the café. Rain didn’t bother to say anything more to the waitress, she already knew what to get her.

[barrettwright]

"It's a gorram shame, for sure. There were some nice folk on that boat. Too bad the captain had his head shoved so far up his own pigu* he couldn't see sense," Barrett held open the door to the coffee shop for his friend Jesse as they entered the shop. Jesse and Barrett had served in the war together. Now that the other man had settled on Persephone, Barrett made a point to see him whenever he could.

"I just can't believe he stiffed you for two months backpay," Jesse shook his head.

"Well, it was worth it just to get out from under that idiot's thumb," Barrett acknowledged taking a seat at a table beside two men and a woman deep in conversation. "That's the problem with finding work these days. Plenty of ships that need a pilot to do the pilot'in, not that many captain's with the sense to leave a man to his work."

A waitress came around to take their order, and Barrett noticed that his friend's eyes kept wandering to the table beside them. He followed Jesse's gaze to see what could be causing him such consternation. It was a woman, a very beautiful woman, that carried herself with the unmistakable air of one registered with the guild.

"You can't afford her, Jess," Barrett mumbled with a grin. "Besides your wife would have your head if you went to messing with Companion folk."

"Hell, there ain't no rule against looking, Barry. She shore is a purty thing."

"That may be truth, but you're too much of an old codger to be acting like a moony teenager." Barrett leaned his chair back, tipping his hat to the lady at the table. "My apologies, ma'am, my friend here ain't much in the way of manners. He's a mite slow as well, so don't take his staring as anything to be alarmed of."

Barrett heard Jesse mutter an oath under his breath and struggled not to smile. It was an amusing little pastime of Barrett's to give Jesse a little ribbing and make fun. He knew his friend would have otherwise never said anything, just continued to stare. Hell, his wife had to propose to Jesse herself, because the man was so skittish around womenfolks.


*bottom

[bigfeely]

"I am very good at responding to orders. I will follow a lot of orders, but if those orders go against my morals, you might have to convince me to do the job." He looks over the Captain's features. He decides that Rick seems like a trustworthy sort, but it will take him a while to convince Rick that he isn't here to just follow orders. He has his own agenda. He wants to search for the man who killed his friend, Jake. Derek. Then a thought crosses Mikiel's mind. Maybe they wouldn't mind helping me reach my goal. Rick looks like he can hold his own and so does the man he was talking to.

[Sian]

Sian had been sitting quietly as Rick spoke to the others that had joined them, just listening. Despite the fact that this had been a meeting she had set up, it didn't bother her that things had changed and the chance for the Captain to perhaps hire others had interrupted. She took the chance to simply observe and possibly learn about what might be fellow crew mates. Though she did still need to finish her conversation with Rick, at some point.

In her observing she noticed the two men who took a table next to theirs, one of them sounding to be a pilot. Sian glanced at the Captain to see if he had taken notice himself, ignoring that the other of the two had begun to stare at her a bit.

Her gaze was taken away from Rick when the one who had been made out to be a pilot addressed her. Sian smiled and nodded at him, "It's not a worry in the least sir, thank you though. Did I overhear correctly that you're a pilot..mister.." She paused at the end so that he could take a moment to introduce himself. An opening in case Rick hadn't overheard that he was a pilot. He had expressed that she was the first to be interested in being crew. Which meant he needed a pilot right? Sian glanced back at the captain a moment.

[barrettwright]

Barrett chuckled as Jesse blushed beet red and excused himself to take a phone call, of which Barrett was more than marginally sure was fake. What were friends for if not to embarrass one another? Barrett was surprised that the woman even replied, much less inquired about his profession.

Scratching his chin and tilting his head slightly, Barrett smirked. "I've been known to guide a boat or two around the black in my day. Providing the coin is right and I'm left to do my flyin' without someone breathing down my neck, of course." Barrett was no fool. He wasn't a particularly smart man either, but he could see where the conversation was going. One of the man at the table seemed to be trying his best to convince the other that he was worth hiring. It was an old game, one that Barrett had seen many times before and played himself more than a few times.

"Word of advice, son," he butted into the conversation with an easygoing smile. "Don't do anything to go against them morals. No matter who asks you too. You make it to my age, they may be just about all you've got left."

[Roark Wilder]

"Full'a surprises, Wilder."

Roark chuckled at Ceren's retort, smiling into his tea cup. The man's dark eyes glanced about as he turned slightly in his seat, checking on Ryder and the Companion, Sian. He was intrigued to see her conversing with a middle aged fellow, while Rick was still talking to the young man who had passed by Roark a minute before.

When Aatos spoke up again, Wilder turned his attention back to her: "So maybe all that gou shi I said about things bein' more prosperous for us as individuals was kinda me talkin' outta my pigu huh?"

A silence followed, and Roark grinned again when he caught the disgusted look on Ceren's face. She didn't seem to be enjoying her coffee at all, which either meant the joint served bad coffee, or he had pegged her right.

"So what's new?"

Roark frowned. "I carry no grudges for what happened Aatos. With most of the crew fallen ill, including the Captain, well... not everyone is cut out for leadership, but for what it's worth, I think you did a helluva job." He shrugged. "...Anyway, seems I'm lined up for a new job," Roark gestured to Rick with a nod of his head. "Name's Ryder. Captains a ship called the Sojourn, wants me for First Mate. He could use a good gunhand too y'know, if you're lookin' for work. I could put in a good word for ya," Roark offered, forgoing to mention that his employer had sent him over to speak with her. Not that he wouldn't have anyway, Ceren was one of the few people in the 'Verse that Roark trusted.

[Rick Ryder]

"I am very good at responding to orders. I will follow a lot of orders, but if those orders go against my morals, you might have to convince me to do the job" Mikiel had replied easily, making Ryder smile. Good to know he sticks by his own moral code. I dunno how good he is in a fight but, he seems confident enough. He doesn't really carry himself right for such a fighter. The only way to find out is to throw him into one. I'll need some time to think on him he thought as he glanced behind Sian and spotted a trio of individuals that stood out from the crowd, approaching the shop.

The first to enter was a woman who was greeted warmly with a hug from a waitress. He overheard part of the greeting between the two women. Another possible. A few minutes later two men entered chatting easily, obviously friends, if the banter was anything to go by. Both carried themselves with an invisible weight that most people looking at them would have missed. It was lightened by each others company but, it was still there. Being a War Veteran himself, he recognized that weight easily. Soldiers were like that, there was an invisible bond that each one shared and recognized, even if they happened to be on opposite sides during the initial conflict.

Fighting during a war was different from a gunfight, not just in scale or purpose but, in violence. Sometimes, in order to survive in a war, you had to do things that went against every grain of your being, and most of the time, you had to do it to your fellow man. He listened for a little bit as Sian talked to the two gentlemen that had just walked in.

If he'd been a dog, his ears would have perked straight up at the one mentioning that he was a pilot. He however, was not a dog, and kept himself contained, though the excitement and intrigue were plain as day on his face. Ryder gave Sian an appreciative wink, not missing a beat as she set up some more possible interest for him. The man's words to Mikiel told Ryder that he valued a person who "stuck to their guns" as the saying went, something that he himself also valued. Common ground was always a good starting point in any conversation.

Rick looked back to Mikiel "Good to know you stick to your guns. Tell you what, why don't you get a drink on me and let me think about it. I need to finish up some business with the lady here first" he tossed Mikiel a coin that was worth about three bucks, enough for a drink and a cheap appetizer.

He looked back to Sian "my apologies Miss Sian. I certainly never expected this kind of response in a Coffee Shop. Now, if my memory serves, you said that you are a Registered Companion and that you can defend yourself "though you are no sharpshooter" I believe is what you said."

He waited for a moment to see if he got that right before he continued "I really appreciate you opening the way for more crew by the way" he said in a whisper, leaning in a little. "Now, what will you need from me, besides assurance that you are able to keep any appointments you make? Which you have." Rick glanced back at Roark and grinned, he was still talking to the woman at the bar. He hoped that was a good thing. He returned his gaze to Sian a split second later, silently letting her know that she had his full attention.

[Ceren Aatos]

Ceren's gaze followed Roark's a moment as he twisted to peer back towards another table. There appeared to be quite a bit of activity surrounding it. A few men and one well-dressed woman all conversing. They looked to be an unusual bunch-- a mixture of different backgrounds, maybe? Though, Aatos wasn't one to get philosophical about people-watching, she was more of an analytical sort. Combat perspective, maybe. Sizing up what people were. That old trick. So... from their difference in looks... you know? They looked like a crew. She was probably wrong, but didn't voice her question on why Roark had glanced that way, and had decided to wait and see what in fact was new. The compliment was brushed off with an uneasy shrug. Ceren never was sure how to take them, and never hardly received them in her life.

"Pretty sure I woulda gotten us all killed anyway." The merc interjected half-heartedly, sort of joking to lighten the mood.

It was more the next part that had piqued her interest. The coffee was set down, can slowly, ruefully slid away from her a little further. Fingers touching the ceramic cup with disdain. Captain. First Mate. Crew. Yeah, Wilder was so much better at this than her. Granted she'd been on a fair few ships in her time, but he apparently had that hiring magnetism. Who knew!

"Ryder, huh? Int'restin'... I mean-- I've had a ton o' offers already an' all that..."

Her eyes shifted back to the table Roark had been peering at before, looking over those gathered and wondering who and who wasn't crew. Eyes narrowed a little. Which one was the Captain, you think? The older guy? The younger one? Or the guy inbetween? Maybe even the fancy-lookin' dame was a candidate. But Ceren had seen and known a few Companions. Unless she was entirely wrong on that stance-- and may just have offended some young, well-off thing. Not that Ceren saw it as an offence. Besides, by now and by her silence, Roark could've already noted her little bluff was complete gou shi and pride that never lasted long enough.

"So, merc job, y'say? Sojourn? Yeah... Yeah, that could work. Which one's Ryder?"

Ceren motioned across the way with a tilt of her head, eternally grateful she was being considered for hire or at least Roark throwing her a possible bone on this one. But again, Ceren wasn't one to voice the niceties. If Wilder knew her well enough, he'd know she was thankful without seeming it. Saved time people thinking she was rude-- which she was-- if they knew enough about her.

[Alexa Stanforth]

Lexa walked around town, looking at the wanted ads that were spread around. More than a few caught her eye. Escort ads, she always rolled her eyes at those. Sad thing was, they were everywhere it seemed. Some poor shmuck's husband, boyfriend or boy toy, or some other person that was important to them in some way, had probably died recently, and they were either looking to fill the gap, or deaden the sorrow in a night of passion. Either that or they were looking for partners for some boring ball room party. Or they were truly looking for love. Sorry saps[/color] she thought as her eyes flew over the Crew Wanted ads.

Alot of ships were looking for crew but, only one caught her eye. The Sojourn. The name for some reason just struck a cord with her. For a couple years now, she'd bounced around the galaxy doing odd jobs like joining a group of mercs to rob something or someone, or doing bodyguard jobs. She served as a temporary waitress when times got tough, even did some small time bounty hunting on the side once in a while, mostly in city stuff. She'd never wanted to return to Persephone though, and yet here she was anyway.

Since the Unification War things like work and money were up in the air. She'd stayed at her parents more than a few times over the years. Bellerophon was nice, it was the closest thing to a home that she had. The only thing that made it home to her though, was the people that had opened their home and hearts to her. The Stanforths. Some commotion from up ahead drew her mind back to the present. Looking up to see what was going on, she spotted four guys helping their friend limp up the sidewalk towards her.

Two of them carried their friend and the last guy acted like a scout. The injured man was bruised all over from what she could see, and recently bloodied, he sported a busted nose, a quickly inflaming lip, and one eye had swollen shut. Whoever they had crossed had done a hell of a job taking out the trash. The scout gave her a very good and overly obvious look over. She just rolled her eyes "keeps your eyes up boys unless you wanna end up like your friend there." The men scoffed at her at usual. Again, she rolled her eyes.

"Hey Joe! This ones got spunk! I like spunk!" one of them jeered. The scout walked forward and grabbed her arm, as if that was going to be enough. "Mmmm, pretty. I think you should accompany us and while you're at it, apologize to my friend for how rude you were" he said, as if he was in control. She smirked and he scowled this is gonna be fun[/color] she thought.

[Sian]

Sian smiled at Barrett as he spoke, confirming that he was indeed a pilot, though he hadn't introduced himself. It wasn't her concern though really, Rick would need to hire the man not her. She was simply nudging the door open, giving the captain a very slight nod at his appreciative wink.

"It's not a problem at all Captain, seems today is your lucky day. You come to Persephone with no crew, now you're looking at several potential hires. Indeed your memory serves you well, which is a good thing. If none of them happen to be any good at cooking though, I am a fair cook myself." Sian smiled and pondered a moment, as if trying to decide what exactly to tell him. Truth was always her preference, in this situation there was no need for lies. She mimicked him, speaking very softly. "To be quite honest with you, there will be no worry about keeping appointments as I won't be making any. I'm only a companion in title now, I have very little interest in the lifestyle anymore."

Sian paused for a moment, thinking exactly how to word why she really wanted to join the Sojourn. When Rick's attention shifted for a second and returned to her, her smile softened. "Things recently have changed in my life, however I've lived the life of a Companion since I joined the academy when I was twelve. So I suppose I am looking to alter the way I live so that I can just be me without being the companion as well..' Her hazel eyes narrowed just a bit, 'Does that make any kind of sense?"

[Roark Wilder]

"Pretty sure I woulda gotten us all killed anyway."

Wilder frowned and shook his head, taking note of the woman's uneasy shrug. And the way she kept scooting her coffee further and further away. "Ryder, huh? Int'restin'... I mean-- I've had a ton o' offers already an' all that..." Roark nodded. He sensed Ceren's continuing uneasiness, but he wasn't about to call attention to it or question her assertions. It simply wasn't his way. Meanwhile, he flagged down an employee behind the counter and ordered a small kettle of tea along with an extra cup, which he intended to give to Aatos. Again though, he would say nothing; he knew all too well the subtleties attached to human pride, and Roark would allow Ceren her pride. After all, he too appreciated someone who understood nuances, someone who didn't always need told point-blank.

"So, merc job, y'say? Sojourn? Yeah... Yeah, that could work. Which one's Ryder?" Wilder turned in his seat as his fellow mercenaries motioned to the growing conglomeration of people gathered near Ryder's table. Sliding a few credits the waitress' direction, Roark poured a cup for Ceren and placed it in front of her, where her cup of coffee had been previously. Turning the rest of the way around, Roark gave a nod towards the Sojourn's Captain. "Ryder's the one in the high-collar duster. He's a few years older than the two of us, but not by much. Brown hair, blue eyes, bit o' scruff... Hmm, looks like this little joint is turning out to be good for business after all," Wilder mused, eyeing the crowd.