Our Angels [Björn's/Trinity]

[Trace Kennet]

[After the events of Very Much Alone, and Showdown...]

[April 3rd, 2523. The Black]

Trace sat, or rather lay, on the console of the ship. He had, despite his hardest attempts to avoid it, fallen asleep. He was woken by the harsh beeping of a proximity alarm. The captain had managed to get some power working. But they were by no means out of the woods. At least they had distress signals on every gorram frequency. Trace jerked up as the shrill alarm blared. He couldn't believe what he saw.

"Captain!" He called into the comm, "Get to the bridge. You want to see this." He felt a smile break on his face.

[Lars Engström]

Lars was in his quarters. He had done what he could for the engine, and his crew, and now he was more or less tending to his own wounds. The burns and shrapnel had done a number on him, but the doctor had saved him. He pulled on a clean shirt, and some pants.

The verse could be a cruel place. Only a few hours before, he had had a full crew, and a ship that was unharmed. Now, he had a floating tragedy. Jordan had slipped away again, Dru had yet to wake up. The Marshall was down, and Seamus too was now down for the count. He thanked whatever God there may be, that they were still alive. The doc was taking care of who he could, and Trace was working to get some help. Jeff was off doing, whatever it was Jeff did. Lars said another thank you to the man who had saved them again.

It was as he pulled on his suspenders, wincing as he raised his cut up arm, that he heard Trace's voice. "What now?" He muttered, grabbing his weapon belt, and buckling it on as he hurried out the door.

******************

"Whats going..." The captain paused, as he entered. "Oh no way." He took in the info on the screen, and nodded at Trace. "Here's hoping." He grabbed the comm, and flipped a switch. "Firefly class Trinity, this is the Björn's Star. Emergency hail." He paused. "Please respond. Repeat this is an emergency hail."

Lars fell silent, waiting for a response.

[Roger Davis]

Answering random beacons wasn't exactly number one on the list of things to do after just narrowly making an unplanned and violent escape from a Core World with a new crew, but leaving someone in need out in the Black wasn't the right thing to do either. Shortly after picking up the burst of signals, the Trinity had altered course to intercept. They were nearly on top of her now, a Hornet Class that had clearly taken some damage. If it was some kind of trap then it was pretty gorram convincing.

"Bjorn Star, this is Trinity. We picked up your beacon. Do you require assistance?" Roger asked. It was overly formal, as he'd been taught through years of military, para-military, and law enforcement, but that's how these things were done. There was no way in hell they'd refuse the help but you always had to ask.

[Lars Engström]

Lars breathed a sigh of relief. "God, its good to hear a voice." He said, through the comm. "We have limited power, and several crew down." He thought for a moment, "Explosion in the engine, punctured the hull. We managed to get her patched, but we are as good as done without help." He caught a glimpse of the Firefly as the Hornet drifted lazily around. "We have severe injuries."

"Dock with us," Lars said, "See you soon." He clicked off the comm, and looked at Trace. "I want everything we have pointed at them, and ready to fire." His face darkened. "If they try to pull anything, well then we're both going down together." He took a portable comm, and made his way to the door, tossing the Pilot his pistol as he went. "Don't leave this room till i give the all clear."

Lars made his way down to the Cargo bay. As he passed the infirmary, he leaned in. "Take a break doc. Grab your piece, and follow me. We have visitors, and I dunno if they're friendly or not. You too Jeff" He headed down, grabbing his spare pistol from its box at the top of the stairs.

He felt, more than heard the two ships connect, and as the other men joined him, Lars waited for something to happen.

[Tristram Kelly]

Tris looked over at Roger when the wave ended. "What do you think? Trap?" He shifted slightly. "Should we have the others cover us while we get the pleasantries out of the way." He drew his shotgun from its holster and checked it. Satisfied that it was ready for action, he slipped it back into its sheathe, lightly tapping it with his finger. It's not that he was nervous... Ok, he was a little nervous. Hijackings happened, and it wasn't uncommon for a ship to get bushwhacked in this fashion. He had heard the stories. Most of them were none too pleasant.

[Vivian Thrace]

Vivian had a feel for flying, the landing part not so much. She was great at hand-eye-coordination that’s what made her an impeccable fighter, but docking an entire ship was a whole other barrel of fish. To say she could probably fly the Trinity was about right, if a bit of an understatement. There was too much pressure carrying a whole ship with a bunch of people on it for her. She could look out for herself when she was fighting and shooting people. One person, that’s all she needed to think about, but this… she did not like this.

Her knuckles were white around the yoke as they headed towards the Bjorn. They were coming in a little fast. Vivian was anxious to get out of this gorram chair. A part of her almost hoped that it was a hijacking so that she could take out her frustration on someone’s head. Flying apparently made her angry. An angry Vivian was a very unpleasant Vivian. “Are we docking Captain?” she glanced over at Roger as she slowed their course. She managed to dock roughly against Bjorn adding a few more scraps to their hull she was sure. As soon as she knew they were secure she stood up, practically leaping from the chair, it didn’t agree with her, and removed her pistol holding it safely by her side. Well as safe as a gun in Vivian’s hands were and to be fair she probably had more control and dexterity with a pistol than most people so depending on how she was feeling about the person she was point it at, fairly safe if she liked you. Then again, if she liked you she probably wouldn’t be pointing a gun at you. “Where do you want me Sir?” She was going to cringe if he told her to stay put, though she did wonder. The pilot usually was the one to watch the ship. ‘F****** lazy pilots,’ she cursed in her head.

[Jeff Weston]

Weston had all but fell a sleep in his suit he had got to leaving the ship and going top side to look around. He had seen the other ship come in view of the Star and heard the Cap's words, still he was cautous of this new ship. He had been on the other side of the coin during the war. Ambushing ships that ran out of fuel or food stuffs and crushing there hopes when the angels took the deck.

Jeff knew he'd be needed at the cargo doors soon so making his way he moved to the aft hatches and entered. Besides protecting the ship he had ...nay needed to protect the ones he now called ..friends. Seeing Dru and Jordan hurt hit him in a place he didn't think he had, his heart. Still suited up with his helm on he heard the Cap.

Take a break doc. Grab your piece, and follow me. We have visitors, and I dunno if they're friendly or not. You too Jeff.

Spinning on his heal he moved to the door stopping with a hand on the door he looked back. Seeing the girls hurt made him mad for some reason. No more hurt, ran through his head as he turned back and followed the Cap. Swinging his MP90 to his hands he readied himself. His look had the feel of a shock trooper from a alliance group. The ones on this ship had gotten use to his unusual look but most were still unsettled by it and he wanted it that way. Taking up a position on the left side of the cargo door Jeff stood unmoving. One quick check for extra clips and he all but stopped moving.

[Lance Howe]

Lance looked up from his work as Lars passed by. Things were a mess in the infirmary with so many patients strewn about but everything was stabilized. Time or perhaps transfer to an actual hospital is what they needed now to recover. It still wasn't exactly the best course of action to leave them unattended but the situation was pretty dire with the crew at 50%. Lars needed all his shooters so that included the doctor.

Lance followed out into the hallway and got in step behind Jeff who had also arrived. He wasn't close to the professional that Weston was but he moved over to the right to try and compliment the other man's position. Smoothly, the Rim doctor drew his sidearm and stood at the ready for whatever came through the door.

[Roger Davis]

The call ended with the other ship and Roger turned to the other two on the bridge. "Possible." He replied to Tristram's assessment. That was of course the first thing that had come to his mind and it was good to her that the new First Mate was on his game. No matter what, this was either going to turn into a standoff or a blood bath, hopefully the former.

"Stay here." He then ordered to Vivian. "We need someone at the helm and you're that someone." He knew she'd be incredibly disappointed at being left out of the 'fun' but a captain's job was not to make sure everyone was having a good time. "We'll see how things go. If there is more trouble than we can handle we'll close up and break away from them, maybe space a few in the process. If there is less or no trouble then I might call you down."

Roger picked up the ship-wide address system and said, "Attention. We've found that distressed ship and are docking. Could very well be a trap and I never take chances. I want all hands armed and in the cargo bay. The ROE are to be defensive. I want weapons loaded but don't start aiming unless they aim first. Don't shoot unless they shoot first. Captain out." He looked at Tris and gave a nod before walking down to the hold himself.

[Alex Ramirez]

Alex showed up to the hold loading his rifle. His pistol and sawed off shotgun were already holstered on low slung belts on his hips. He finished loading the rifle as he reached the cargo hold, chambering a round by cocking the lever. The rifle was cradled almost tenderly in his arms like it was a sleeping babe. He'd done boarding actions while a Browncoat, and they were never fun. it required the entire lace be searched. There were millions of places for a man to hide on a ship, not including those that required a pressure suit.

He was waiting in the hold when Captain Davis entered, taking a tiny sip out of a flask. it was a sipping whiskey he'd picked up on Ariel, and a fine drop at that. smooth on the way down, with warmth spreading through his chest. 'Hola, Captain. Ready when yuou are.' He offered Davis the flask. 'Little pick-me-up?'

[Lars Engström]

Lars stood in front of the door, waiting. He seemed to be doing a lot of waiting recently. But now at least they had hope. He hoped the men on the other side were going to play nice, if only because if things went to hell, there was no way he would survive. The best they could hope for was a peaceful solution. Lars couldn't see a reason for things to go to , but you never could tell. Especially with the luck he had been having recently.

The seconds ticked by, and Lars stood, waiting. He glanced at Jeff and Lance, and shrugged. "Watched pot never boils." He said, with a nervous attempt at a smile. The sounds of something happening outside drew his attention back to the matters at hand. "Nobody shoots unless they shoot first." His eyes locked on the door. And the waiting game, continued.

[Jeff Weston]

Jeff never liked waiting it made him....sleepy. Stiffling a yawn that went unseen and unheard Jeff rolled his shoulders to stretch out the tiredness. He rechecked the ammo and made sure the full auto was off. No need zippering someone with out getting to know them first.

Hearing the Cap speak gave him that bit of awaking he needed to continue on. Chuckling Jeff said....
Where's the fun in that Cap? But ...as you wish.

Running through the set of programming for visual and audio settings he tried to get any clue as to how much longer it would be.

[Tristram Kelly]

Tris shot a sharp glance over at Ramirez. Sure, he would go off on occasion and get seriously hammered, but never right before a situation where bullets could start flying.

"Why don't we put that away, hmm? We're docking with an unknown ship, facing tyen shiao duh, and the last thing we need is a lawman getting himself killed because he was too slow on the draw."

The gunhand spotted the Shepherd a few yards off. He took the rifle off his back and tossed it at Shield, his hard eyes giving the old man a knowing wink. In an effort not to come off as having a holier than thou attitude about alcohol, he turned back to the sheriff.

"If you wait until after this mess, we'll dip into my stock. Kěyǐ ma?"

[Vivian Thrace]

Vivian flopped unceremoniously into the chair. One could say that she was pouting with that steely eyed glare of hers, but that’s just how she looked nowadays to be honest. “Yes Sir,” she replied respectively nonetheless. As soon as they got to the nearest planet they had better find a suitable pilot.

Once they had left her alone Vivian cursed under her breath at the idea of her being a permanent fixture in this cockpit. She crushed herself against the chair glaring out at the black. She flipped her Remington around her finger and holstered it. She did this a few times and then went about loading and reloading her Walther bored out of her mind and wondered what they were all talking about aboard the… what was it? The Bijorn Star? It was a funny name for a ship she thought and shrugged.

[Dexter Shield]

Dexter had made his way to the cargo hold after the announcement. He arrived shortly after Ramirez, and in plenty of time to hear the exchange about drinking. He smiled slightly, at the young first mate's words.

Shield caught the tossed rifle deftly, and after a moment of thought, slung it on his own back. He then leaned on his staff and waited. He thought about what the others had said, and had managed to put together a fairly decent idea of what was going on. He decided to speak, although he phrased it carefully. The likes of Ramirez might take it the wrong way, even if the captain and First mate didn't.

"Perhaps, we should open the door? If they are in trouble it does no one any good to stand here waiting. Only makes itchy trigger fingers itchier."

The shepherd fell silent.