Filling The Pages [Open]

[Lars Engström]

[Ariel Docks. March 9th, 2523.]

Lars sat on the ramp of his ship. The workmen were busy making repairs, and he was left with nothing to do but think. He had taken his wounded to the hospital, and then, well he had no choice but to wait. So here he was. He thought back over the last few days.

Dru, Jordan, the Marshal, and Seamus were all checked in to the long term ward at Saint Lucy's. Not much could be done. They were deep in their own heads, with no sign of returning. It hurt, to lose them all at once, but the verse had been cruel. And it hadn't stopped there.

Trace had fallen victim to a misunderstanding, and taken a bullet. He was fine, in the hospital, but healthy and alive. He had got a call from the family, as soon as he was checked in, and the results had left him without much choice in the matter. The kid blamed his parents, but with Jordan in the shape she was, and all that had happened, Lars knew the call had been a lucky excuse.

That left him with the Doc, and Jeff. In the course of a week, he had lost his crew. The sun slowly sank, as the day came to an end. The workmen packed up their tools, and headed off. The foreman approached Lars, reporting the work was complete. Money changed hands, and then Lars was alone once again. He didn't know where the other two were. He had told them they would be here for a while. Three days so far, and without a mechanic and a Pilot... longer.

[Sam Grady]

. . .Ariel. Of all the two-bit, low-down and dirty planets in the 'Verse. The worst hives of slavers and swindlers. They could've all been the perfect place to be right now. Hell, any now. Even a semi Alliance planet would've done. Nope. No. Never. Sam Grady's luck was never that good. She was the girl that lost her arm, remember? The pirate that almost got left for dead. The evac pilot that almost blew up the shuttle on numerous occasions. She was the troublemaker and crude worded former pilot of the Veasna. A pilot who's services had been terminated, and her only true pleasure in life taken away from her. This isn't to be mistaken with a grudge, nor ill will. Generally, if someone takes the sky from Sam, there is Gui [hell] to pay. Syeira had her reasons, and so much of Sam's respect that she never even wants it admitted should anyone ever catch wind. Might ruin her reputation, you know?

So, not a few hours ago, Sam had had her grimy mitts around the yoke of a ship. A supply ship! A job she'd picked up on Persephone. Something that probably traced back to Minerva Gorram Colt, but it had been flying, and as it stood... Sam really wasn't that picky who she flew for. Well, aside from Alliance military... we all have some standards, after all! Even Grady. Hard to believe, I know. But, back to this job. It had been bliss. And then it had turned into a dispute of her getting paid and getting lost. Maybe she'd rubbed the Captain the wrong way? Maybe the shot about his lady had been a little too far... All Sam knew was that she was stuck on Ariel. In the Core. Dirtying up the place, and desperate to get away. So much so she was scouring the docks, determined to find a way out of this. It may even cost all the pay she'd just earned but... Gorrammit, this was the Core! Sam didn't belong here any more than a shark belonged on dry land. Core folks had been giving her looks, too. And Sam had been giving them dainty, metal-digit waves and huge smug grins. Greeting them and daring them to say something about the way she looked. Most just ignored her and hurried along their way.

That was what brought her before the Bjorn's Star. Or whatever the name was. It was a Hornet; the looks making it somewhat closely related to the Firefly-class. There were subtle differences, of course. Grady was just grinning up at it. It looked better than all the big, fancy Alliance ships overhead and in their docking stations. The woman stood a few feet from the ramp, hands in her pockets, duffel bag dumped at her feet. Then a sharp whistle was given towards the young fella sitting on the ramp.

"'Ey, Skippy! This ship takin' on passengers? Crew? Anythin'? I'll take head-scrubber if'n it gets me off this rock."

Of course, Sam assumed him the Barker of the ship, but he didn't appear to have much to say. No calling out and bothering folks. Looked too depressed for that. Maybe it was a new angle? Folks ask what's wrong and they get reeled in?

[Lars Engström]

Lars looked over, as the voice called out to him. The woman who stood before his ship, well, mostly woman, her arm was interesting, was talking to him. "Skippy?" He mused, not standing. "Never been called that before, but this week.... has been full of firsts." He laughed, a depressed laugh. "And lasts." He fell silent for a moment, looking away. Then he looked back at her.

"Well, miss." He said, standing up slowly. "You happen to be in luck." He smiled, sadly, resting his hand idly on his sword. "The captain is looking for damn near everything." He rubbed his arm gingerly, the wounds from the adventure before, still twinged. "we just came through a bit of a mess, lost a lot of crew." He gestured at the ship... and then his head fell slightly. "Friends..."

Lars snapped back to the woman. "So," He raised an eyebrow. "What do you do? other than scrub heads."

[Sam Grady]

Despite her situation, dire situation, Grady had a way of seeming like nothing in the world could bring her down. Well, mostly because there was a ship ahead of her and the prospect of 'rescue'. Things like that could always make a girl seem more positive about life, and less angry. Of course, ships she'd been on could be brought down. And one of them had. But, let's not sully her expert skills. Circumstances change, no rival pirate groups to shoot her down, etc. The grin remained, the leather-sleeved metal arm shifting from her pocket to heft up the duffel at her feet. She'd step on closer kinda easy-like.

"Funny that. Never been called 'miss' 'fore, either."

Then again, this was the Core, and an area of the 'Verse Sam stayed away from if she could help it. She actually kept pretty quiet when she listened to both his woes and his problems. Grady was famous for a lot of things amongst those few that knew her. One of them being she was outright terrible at consoling folks.

"Uh. Well-- hey. These things... I mean, my ol' crew had to disband. So I know how that is-- but did you say damn near all needed?"

It was hard not to get excited at that. As insensitive as she tried to not be-- and believe me, Sam tried darn hard-- the fact the Captain of this ship need crew and maybe badly? Well, it was his lucky day--

"Well, then. You can tell th'Cap'n that it's his lucky day. One genius pilot. No waitin'. Ready t'go. I guess if I hafta scrub heads, then we can work that out-- but flyin' is sorta.. my thing. Get me?"

That grin was ever-wide. Maybe it'd cheer him up to know that this ship was at least gonna fly. Sam failed to realise he'd said 'damn near all' and that really didn't explain what he was, unless you were a dense pirate so distracted with oooh a ship! that you couldn't put two and two together...

[Sarah Cooper]

((ooc: Not that it matters but Sarah is wearing with this rucksack HERE))

Sarah Cooper was the most optimistic young mechanic you would ever meet. Some might say idealistic. She could make something from nothing and fix just about anything. If she couldn’t, no one could. She was gifted. Machines just spoke to her. Fighting people and destruction wasn’t her thing but fixing, that was something she knew how to do.

The redhead walked the docks jauntily listing off the names of the various ships in her head and the parts that went with them, her old brown rucksack on her back and a large faded duffle bag nearly twice her size was hoisted over one shoulder. Her duffle had more tools than clothes or possessions inside.

Nothing truly sparked her interest. Most of the ships were massive Alliance ships. They looked pretty on the outside but on the inside they weren’t really much to look at as far as she was concerned. Then she came upon the Bjorn Star, Hornet-class, and she grinned. She stopped and stood right in front of it, “Shiny,” she mumbled gazing up at the ship. Sarah turned to the young man sitting on the ramp.

She marched right up to the toe-headed young man and the woman who stood beside him with curly hair and an awesome mechanical arm. Sarah immediately knew she wanted to know more about the woman. She had a way about her that just spoke ‘pirate.’ “She’s a beaut,” she said of the ship in greeting and held out a hand in to the man who seemed to be in charge as the woman was also carrying a bag, “Sarah Cooper,” she introduced herself with a cheery grin, “You wouldn’t be in need of someone good at fixin’ things or cleanin’ up like a dishwasher or a cook or a mechanic,” she spoke quickly slipping that last bit in there hoping to all things precious and good that the Bjorn was in need of a mechanic.

[Lars Engström]

"Iff'n I knew your name, might be I could call you somethin other than miss." He shrugged, "But like I said, week of firsts." He sighed, softly.

Lars was amused by the pilot's antics. She was going to be an interesting crew mate, assuming she was as interested as she seemed. "Genius Pilot eh?" He decided to play it cool, for now. "Well. You have any references? Not everyone can just dub themselves a genius." He raised an eyebrow, and grinned, slightly. "But if you can fly her, then I suppose the job is yours. Captain wasn't very specific." He smiled, this could be fun.

Then another woman appeared, and Lars heard mechanic. "You know what?" He said, amazed at his good fortune. "I think grease monkey is on the list of things we need." He thought of Jordan, and sighed. "Newly vacated position."

"Pleased to meet you Miss Cooper. " He glanced back at the other hopeful. "Soon as this'un tells me what name to put on the rosters, I think we can give you the tour." He smiled. He was going to have a little fun, too much temptation, what with them not knowing he was the captain. "My name's Lars. And I suppose I'll be your tour Guide." He winked. "Captain Engstrom was fairly specific on that. Everyone has to know there way around."

[Sam Grady]

Oh. Right. In all her excitement, mind flooded with the thoughts of having a ship to fly again-- a damn fine vessel, too-- Grady hadn't really remembered any semblance of manners. I mean, it's understandable when you barely have any to start with. Non-existent, perhaps. The pilot shifted in her spot, and was about to respond, when they had another come join them. Grady peered to the side, looking to the girl that had sidled up with the same gleam in her eye Sam herself was still sporting. Sweet young thing. It was a wonder what she was doing all the way out yonder. Or maybe a Core girl?

The girl was left to say her peace, and wasn't that a lucky turn of events? A mechanic! Right when they needed one! Sam could've leapt for joy and clicked her heels at such good fortune. Her grin was turned on this young miss Cooper.

"Well, fancy that! A pilot AND a fixer girl all in one day. Stars must be shinin' on this here boat." Kinda profound, for someone like Grady.

"Oh-- Syeira Duvont could sing m'praises 'm sure. She was m'last Cap'n. Stellar girl. My old flight officer on the other hand, he'd tell ya I was fong luh [crazy]." Grady laughed it off, of course. Everyone was crazy in this 'Verse.

"An' they call me-- well, I get called a lotta things-- Sam Grady. Nice ta meet ya, Lars-- Sarah."

A nod was given to each of them in turn, the pilot already hefting up her bags. Captain must be inside. Doing those Captain-y things that Syeira had done a lot. Collect swords... mess with herbs... order folks around. Okay, maybe just that last one was generally specific. Sam was glad that there was already going to be a mechanic. That meant they would be staying in the skies for a long old time. Meant that Sam didn't have to worry about ever being ground too long. Some of the worst days ever when a ship is broke.

[Sarah Cooper]

Sarah noted the sigh and drop in his mood but was too excited to take it fully into account. A wide grin slowly formed over her features when he said they were in need of a grease monkey, “Well a mechanic you have then,” she shook his hand enthusiastic. “And Sarah is fine, no need for formalities,” she smiled.

“It sure is shiny,” Sarah smiled at the other girl. “A pleasure Sam, any pilot is a friend of mine,” she nodded sure that it was likewise. A pilot couldn’t fly without a mechanic and a mechanic wouldn’t get anywhere without a pilot. It was rare that Sarah didn’t get on with the pilot. They both understood and appreciated a ship like the Bjorn.

Sarah picked up her battered ol’ duffle she had set on the ground and heaved it over her shoulder. She looked as though she shouldn’t be able to lift something so bulky and yet she carried it with ease and grace as she followed them inside assuming the Captain was within. She wondered what he or she would look and act like. She imagined a gruff bearded man who smoked a pipe and could draw a pistol on you before you could say a word, or maybe an impressive woman who wore a pirate hat and sported a shiny sword like the one Lars was carrying. She put the imaginings out of her head however as she gazed in awe at the ship. She was glorious.

[Lars Engström]

[All sorta strung together.]

Lars nodded to the two women, and then turned to enter the ship. "Sorry bout the mess." He began, with a glance around. "Like I said, we just narrowly avoided a real hell of an ending. Still cleaning up." He stopped for a moment, turning to face them. "You ladies can drop your gear here for now if you want. Easier to get around without it." He smiled, and indicated the engine room. "Engine room there. As you can see. We got her all patched up and ready to go. Best shape she's been in for a while." He sighed, and turned to head up the stairs. "Crew quarters are here. take your pick. If the bed doesn't have anything on it, it's yours for the takin."

Lars continued up to the common area. Stopping for a moment at the infirmary. "This is where our doc usually hangs around." He glanced around. Not seeing Lance, he moved on. "Common area is just up here. Meals and what not happen here." He glanced at Sarah. "You said you can cook? Well.. if you feel like sharing, no one would complain. Otherwise, just eat whenever." He smiled, wryly.

Noticing the painted artwork, he paused for a second. So many reminders of the ones he had lost. As they passed through the common area, he saw Lance. "There he is. First Mate, and registered Doctor. Lance Howe." He smiled, and winked so the ladies couldn't see. "Lance, this is Sam. And Sarah." His voice got heavy, "New crew." He shook his head. "But there's time for meet and greet later." He hurried on.

"Captains office is through here." He nodded at the door. "Best to knock if you need to see him. But he'll be around to see you soon anyway." Lars tapped on the door, for effect. Only silence greeted them. "Must be busy." He said with a smile.

He pointed to the front of the ship. "Bridge is right up there." He looked around, "That about concludes the fancy tour." He shrugged. "Not much to see. Course, there is one more fella to watch for. Jeff Weston. Don't let the looks scare ya, he wont hurt you. But try not to sneak up on him." He led them back to the common area.

"Well, I spose you can get your things situated, and then we'll be good to go. Heading to Whitefall as soon as we can. Still working a job, and captain says the delay is too much already." He looked at them. "Any questions?"

[Sam Grady]

The pilot straight dumped her things unceremoniously on the floor when the offer was handed out, more interested in seeing the lay of the ship than anything else. First off being Cooper's new domain. The room was looking spiffy, just like he said, but Sam had a very rudimentary grasp on mechanics. Mostly just how to keep things in the cockpit maintained, and that generally went as far as 'put more tape on it'.

"Coulda been much worse." Sam remarked, a little more darker than her usual tone. Almost too knowing to want to explain. It was obvious she'd seen some scrapes, though. The odd scar, the arm. Even if she sucked at sympathy, she knew what Lars was all about right now.

Boots thunked against metal grating as she followed on after their tour guide, running her flesh hand along the wall of the corridor momentarily. She looked to be gauging something as she walked through. Distance, space. Grady prided herself on being one of the best getaway pilots in the business. And inflated egos aside, she liked to be able to get from cargo bay to cockpit in however fast her legs could carry her. Plus, knowing the layout back-to-back of the ship you were gonna be living on helped you have an advantage over anyone unfriendly boarding. Access hatches and the like. Also, she picked the bed not owned that was the closest direction of the bridge. It'd be a surprise if they ever saw her out of her seat unless she was hungry, or if there was a fire. And only if there was a fire in the cockpit. Maybe to go bar-hoppin' and get into a fight, too.

But enough about that seemingly lazy pirate's rare piece of tactical thinking! It didn't last long anyway. The immediate was where Sam always lived. Never dwell on either past nor future. How the here and now affected her was what Grady cared about.

Howe was given a little wave of spidery digits, the dark skeletal metal whirring with the small motions as she grinned rather pleasantly at the medic. She was gonna need him for any injuries-- and just looking at her one could imagine she'd be injured a fair bit. The arm always gave her grief, aches and pains. Locked up from time to time, too. But that's what you get with back-alley surgery, ya know?

The whole Captain bit was getting a little fishy to Sam, but that really didn't mean she was about to assume something smart and sensible. Nope. There was something at work here.

"You kill 'im in his sleep or som'it?" The way it came out of her mouth was so casual, but clearly an actual question. Sam came from a ship originally where everyone tried to kill each other all the time if it meant more money or a better bunk. Didn't seem like something she'd find in the Core, though. Maybe he'd gone crazy? Tried to kill the crew?

"I mean, we all got our grudges, Lars, but---"

And then the cockpit. Just where she wanted to be. The one place she'd wanted to see. Grady immediately lost her train of thought, didn't care if he really had killed the Captain, and was busy touching every surface she could. Real and fake hands skimmed the controls. Yeah, yeah this'll do. Mmhm. She was already in the chair, getting comfy as she tuned back in to what Lars was saying. Begrudging, she left the chair, heading back out towards the common area.

"Long as he ain' too scared o' me, neither." She grinned, of course, in reference to his warning of Weston. Either not a lot really scared Sam, or she was just good at not showing it. Probably something to be realised later.

Whitefall, 'ey? Sam glanced over her shoulder, almost rather longingly in the direction of the cockpit. Probably better if she get her things situated, maybe strap a gun back to her hip now that she wasn't wandering Alliance-based streets.

"I'm ready to go now. Hell, I was ready before I even set down on this rock. Can get us to Whitefall, quick as I can-- Guess I'd sorta kinda need the Cap's 'okie-dokie' first, though, right?"

[Jeff Weston]

Ariel, it had been years for Weston and he had to go see a friend. Visiting an old storage bin he pulled out a vaccumed package which held his only dress suit. The suit cost him nearly a years wages to obtain but it was worth it. The suit was tailored to fit him. Closing the bin he called the manager to have it dropped of at the Star. Spending the next three hours he talked to his old friend, Ian Moore. He lived at the sanityward of St. Lucy. Ian would often remember and then in the next breathe as Jeff who he was. The time was well spent since during the war Ian had watched over him for he was Jeff's handler. Sighing Weston stood to leave and Ian thanked him for coming but then asked him not to come back for the Alliance would be looking for any Angels. Some thing was moving within the Alliance and Ian knew but what it was none would get it a full clear picture of what it was.

Jeff made his way back to the Star after picking up a few medical items. The ramp was still down. A smirk rose on his face as to what words Lars was spinning to any new crew. Jeff slowed down as he saw a dock boy with a locker bin standing around with a lost look on his face. With a rush and a german accent Jeff proceeded to charge the young man demanding what he was doing. Then pointing to the Star he said....

That's dah ship you fool. Get it in there now and don't ask for dem tip. Tre hours I vait why jooz so slow? Did you have to grow up first?

As the dock boy rushed to put his locker bin in the Star Jeff pulled out a pair of sun glasses and put them on. With his head held back doing his best to look down his nose and give that best german feel to his limping gate he slowly made his way to the ship. As the dock boy left Jeff swift kicked at the kid.

Going over the locker bin he dragged it over to a larger metal case, his gun case. With a couple clicks it opened and it opened reveiling the two MP90's and enough ammo to start another war with. Taking one of the guns out and the smaller sonic pistol out Jeff turned and went to the common area when he saw no one in the cargo.

Coming up the flight of stairs Jeff was spraying his best german tounge as best as he could. It summed up to legality of the dock boy's birthing and the level of teaching he had. All this was mixed with a few of the befouled word he could remember. Comming into the common area finally he hefted the mp90 into the crook of his left arm and shuffled with the sonic pistol. Turning to Lars and the girls the smirk returned. Walking up to them Jeff spoke to Lars.

So Larrie, jooz looking for more clients. A companion like jourself will get poor ratings if you don't and dhey look pretty enough. Anywho I have work and my suit is not going to press and hang it's self is it?

Larrie which do joo tink I should take the 90 or the sonicky? I like options but I don't like da weight some times. Makes me feel.... fat some times. Oh well what we won't do to make lunch. Lunch in dirty minutes hope joos like sour crout and scitchels.

[Sarah Cooper]

Sarah followed Lars and Sam inside and dropped her duffle. Her eyes lit up at the sight of the engine room. She wasn’t listening to what Lars and Sam were saying instead she found herself captivated by the beauty of it. The engine of a Hornet-class was more complicated and intricate than most of the large Alliance ships that were on the docks but to Sarah they were far more exciting to work with and could do far more.

Then they were moving again. She climbed the stairs glancing around at the crew quarters thinking she would try getting one with nearest access to the engine room. She ran a hand along the hull of the ship as they walked. As they went on through the common area she glanced around. She returned Lars’ smile with a bit more cheer than he had on as he spoke of cooking. “Sure thing.”

“Nice to meet you,” she greeted Lance Howe. Then as they moved onto the Captain’s quarters she looked over at Sam with a slightly suspicious expression muddled with confusion.

She smiled at Lars. “I’ll try not to,” she said of Jeff. Then looking to Lars she said, “I’m ready to go as soon as I meet the Captain.” Truth be told Sarah Cooper was itching to get off this rock.

[Lars Engström]

Lars was amused by the way things were going. He looked at the women in front of him, and was about to answer their many questions when Jeff appeared. "Here's Jeff." He managed to say, before the man jumped right into the little charade. However, as the gunslinger took things into his own hands, Lars decided the time had come to wind it down. Nothing against Weston, but if the captain wasn't careful he was going to end up as a garbage boy. Besides, the suspicious looks were also not lost on the young captain. It was time for business.

"Well, I have been known to hold grudges against the captain, but I couldn't kill the old son of a bitch." He smiled. "Because suicide don't sit to well with my stomach." He let the statement sit for a moment, then: "Name's Lars Engstrom. I'm captain of the Star." He looked around. It had worked out well. The whole crew was here, new and old. "Now, we just came through a bit of fire, and a lot of hell. But we are gonna move on." He sighed. "Butnow isn't time for nostalgia. It's time to work."

"You two, get your gear stowed and take care of any last minute things you may have to stitch up." he smiled. "Like I said before, we're heading to Whitefall. Got some medicine and foodstuffs to drop. Likely won't be hitting the core again for a while. So if you have family or friends.... or anything. Take care of it now." The captain raised an eyebrow. "Otherwise, Grady I want you up on the bridge as soon as your gear's stowed. Cooper, tools are all in the engine room. You need anything that's not there, let me or my first mate know." He nodded at Lance.

"If you need me, I'll be in my office." He smiled. "I want this planet to be in the rearview in 15 minutes." He turned and walked up the steps, entering his office. He took a seat behind his desk, and kicked his feet up. He didn't expect anyone to come in, but new crew meant surprises. He took his pistol out, and spun it on his finger, before placing it on his desk, and leaning back. It felt good to be getting back in the air.

[Lance Howe]

Lance looked up with only mild interest as the new comers passed by him their first time through the common room. He wasn't the friendliest of folk. If they hadn't figured it out yet then they soon would. He was on Ariel, the center of medical knowledge in all the 'Verse. All the texts, journals, and materials he picked up were all of much greater interest to the doctor than two replacement crew members getting the tour.

When they came back in, Lars was playing something about not being the captain and then Jeff arrived putting on some fake mutt-tongue accent and acting like an eccentric. Lance just rolled his eyes at the whole charade of nonsense. As the captain finally dropped the act, the earlier words of introduction about the doctor finally struck home. Neither things said about him were actually true. He was not officially "registered" nor was he first-mate. Was it all just part of the captain's little game?

When Lars retired to his office, Lance got up and followed shortly thereafter. He knocked twice and then pushed the door open. "That tour guide you hired said something about me being First Mate. I figure he was full of ."

[Sam Grady]

Firstly, there was the arrival of this strange-talking, and gun-toting man to consider, which Sam did quite quickly, her eyes immediately on the weapon as he casually waved it about. Maybe this ship wouldn't be too far from home after all. All his words were a little hard to understand at first-- Grady was terrible with some accents-- but then she couldn't help the wide grin, and peered at Lars.

"Guess the best kinda meet-an'-greeters are the ones always 'entertainin' folks." Her grin twisted a little crudely, and only managed to wipe the stupid look off her face long enough to interject with, "I'd stick with the 90. Never trusted all that fancy shiong mao niao [panda urine] tech."

Of course, that brought them back to Lars again, when he answered all the questions they ever needed. Sam blinked a moment, with this lack of comprehension similar to a dead fish lying on a market stall, and then found out that open mouth of hers could be used for more than just catchin' flies.

"Uh-- Aye, aye Skippy--Skipper--Cap'n?"

There wasn't much else she could say, and still kind of had that dumb face about her, eventually shaking it off when she realised she'd been given the 'OK' to get them up and away. A ridiculous notion that she'd have family or business to settle. Something that had earned a derisive snort from the pilot, before she pivoted to go and get her things stowed. A motion was made towards Cooper, her fellow 'new girl', giving a stage-whisper as Howe made his un-cheery way passed them and after Captain Skippy. Captain Companion?

"Well, ain' he an' awful ray a' sunshine."

Sam always found it interesting she ended up one of the older crew members-- from looks, anyway. Cooper couldn't have been much older than a babe-in-arms by her own reckoning. When did the reckless pirate teen become the oldie? She didn't have the maturity for old!