Cheated and tipsy, lets party! }{ Onas and crew.

[Harper Montgomery]

The hum of life on the passenger vessel was soothing. Or at least it should have been. For Harper Montgomery it was annoying. People were hustling around in the kitchen area, grabbing their last minute snacks before the ship landed. Harper was already sitting in the co-pilots seat, his eyes roaming over the younger man in the pilots seat. A frown tugged at the corner of his mouth as he tugged on his greying beard. He couldn't believe they were letting this kid control the ship. Maybe the youngin could pilot a smaller vessel, but this lady wasn't little. And she carried a large sum of people.

Cornflower blue eyes stared at the young man, Chuckie they called him, surveying how steady he moved. The tiniest shake in his hands had Harpers nerves on edge. But he knew if the ship started to plummet he'd just push the kid out of his chair and take over. Stupid captain to let a kid handle this kind of heavy lifting. It didn't help that Chuckie reminded him so much of Jonah, always wanting to do things on his own. Wanting to seem older than he actually is... It made his heart hurt, and that in turn only pissed him off.

The ship began its decent, the tempered glass in front of them flaring with life as the vessel hurtled towards the ground. That didn't sit well with Harper. "Ease up, Chuckie boy or you ain't gone be able to land 'er." He growled, his voice gravelly with age and years of smoking. Lets not even go into the drinking.

Chuckie scowled at their hired hand, rolling those baby blue eyes like the teen he was. Couldn't have been more than 20... Harper scowled right on back, unclicking his seat belt with ease. "Ease up." He warned once more, getting ready to stand.

"Why don'choo shut yer gorram mouth, Montgomery. Aint nobody asked yeh to come pilot. You was hired to shoot, thas it." The young man barked, not paying attention to his post anymore. Now that really burned Harper. Maybe he wasn't hired to pilot their ship. That didn't mean he was going to die simply because this little brat didn't know what he was doing. He stood in one sweeping motion, not even teetering with the ships movement. That took practice, it helped that he often did it drunk. But he hadn't had a stiff drink today, and now he wished he had.

"If you don't ease up on yer speed, boy, yer gonna kill us all." He growled, unbuckling Chuckie in one quick move while pushing the small blond out of the chair. Of course he heard Chuckie holler his displeasure, he even heard him take his gun out of its holster. He even heard him push down on the hammer, giving Harper a lovely demonstration of just how stupid this boy was.

Regardless of it all Harper paid him no attention, setting his sights on making sure they didn't become splatters of red on the surface of Santo. Slowly he eased the acceleration to a safe speed, watching as the docking bays came into view. "Think you can set 'er down without killin' someone?" He snapped over his shoulder, those cornflower blue eyes looking serious and grimm. As usual. When he didn't get a response he glanced back at Chuckie, staring down the barrel of his gun.

The small pistol looked a lot like a childs toy, but when it was pressed against his forehead it certainly would do its job. He met Chuckies eyes and glared, his upper lip mimicking what can only be described as a snarl. "We aint got time for this, Chuck." He barked, grabbing his wrist so fast the younger man didn't know how to react. He nearly pulled the trigger, the gun pointed at the ceiling, but Harper squeezed hard on his wrist. The older man scooped the little pistol up, shaking his head at Chuckie.

A grumble escaped the unpleasant man as he turned back to piloting like nothing had happened. He'd had so many guns pointed in his face these past few years it didn't even phase him anymore. Harper wrapped his hands around the handles of the throttle. His fingers deftly ran over the preparation for the landing gear. Slowly he eased the ships speed even more.

"Yer gonna shut the engine before we even make it in!" Chuckie hissed, throwing himself into the co-pilots seat. A heart, cold, laugh escaped Harper. "Boy I was flying ships before you were a sparkle in yer daddies eye. Hush up and watch me fly." He ordered, his tone commanding. He hadn't used that tone much since the war. It felt odd, familiar, and it tasted bitter on his tongue. Too many bad memories came with that tone.

The ship, smooth as if it were simply sliding on butter, slipped into the proper docking bay. The kick stands, as Harper liked to call them, deployed as they hovered over the ground and Harper set the ship down with ease. You didn't even feel it touch the ground. A small cocky grin appeared under his shaggy beard, and he could hear Chuckies exasperated sigh.

He tossed little Chuckles his pistol back, standing to head out of the control room. Collect pay. Then find a bar. That was his plan for this planet.

Harper followed the crowd of people to the ramp to freedom, nodding at each of them as they went. After all he had been hired for more muscle, make sure no one got too stupid. Why they thought this crowd would cause any trouble he didn't know. Seemed like a waste of money... for them.

Finally the crew could exit, and he waited at the bottom of the ramp for the Captain. She lumbered out, half dressed in a pair of coveralls and big black boots. On any other woman it might have been sexy, on Captain Michelle Rose it was nauseating. But Harper was still a gentleman, so he quietly removed his hat. "Ma'am. I 'spect my pay as we agreed on Persephone." He said softly, or as softly as his gruff voice would allow.

She grinned, and it was not the kind of grin Harper wanted to see. This wasn't going to go well. "Y'see Mr. Montgomery, we didn't get the payout we was hopin fer. Unfortunately yer payout ain't gone be what we bargained fer." Harper did well at disguising his anger. He didn't work for free, not when he could be following leads to Islas whereabouts. "Ma'am, with all due respect, we had an agreement." He said quietly, though the fury of the situation built like a wildfire under his skin.

"And I'm tellin' ya Mr. Montgomery, I ain't got the funds fer yer full pay." She handed him an envelope, and he frowned at its contents. "This ain't even half o'what you owe me..Ma'am." This was one of those times he really wished he weren't a gentleman. This woman was pushing his limits. "You could at least give me half. Yer boy over there nearly killed the whole lot of yer passengers. If I wadn't on board you'd be a stain on the pavement." He called darkly, nodding to the now blushing Chuckie.

But no deal was made.

She agreed to pay him the other half if he'd help with the transport back. Politely he declined. Instead he took the 10% of his pay and headed for the bar. After that he needed more than a stiff drink. He needed 4 or 5.

The door to the saloon swung open, clapping against the wall loudly. A few eyes looked him over suspiciously. He ignored them, heading to the furthest table from people. It sat in the corner, half shrouded in darkness. It seemed perfect for him, as if they'd known he was coming. Harper took off his hat, setting it on the table and ordering two shots of whiskey. Nearly 4 shots later he was feeling a nice quiet buzz. No one was bothering him, which was fine by him.

But it left him to his thoughts.

For a while he pondered on Isla. Was she alive? Had she been raped? Were they torturing her right now, while he wallowed in anguish? Another shot. Then there was Captain Rose, stiffing him on more than half his pay. What the hell was he going to do with this 10%. Wasn't even enough to get him black out drunk. He scowled to himself, feeling nice and shiney.

"I aint work for free." He grumbled under his breath and promptly made his way towards the ship. The name evaded him at that moment, but he'd know it when he saw it. Why they had left the ship unattended, and so open, was beyond him. It was a blatant, and rookie mistake. He climbed aboard, a bottle in his hand. Making his way to the bridge he took a swig here or there.

This would not stand. If they were going to take his pay, then damnit he was going to take it back. In pieces if he had to.

He climbed into the pilots seat, his eyes roaming over the controls. A soft hiccup escaped him and he grinned, they'd be missing a ship when they got back. He eased onto the throttle, hearing the engine come to life. The thrusters hummed with energy, waiting to take off fully. Harper smiled, actually smiled. Only in private did that smile exist. Suddenly the vessel lifted off the ground, moving to exist. And soon he was joyriding just off planet. He didn't plan to steal the ship, just barter.

A few hours of a bit more drinking and the wave finally sounded. Pressing a few holographic keys here and there and Captain Rose frowned at him. Harper leaned in the chair, placing his boots on the control console. He could see the wildfire of rage building in her plump face.

"Ma'am." He said, tipping his hat and taking a swig of whiskey.

"Mr. Montgomery, if you don't return my vessel this instance I will have you arrested. You don't actually think she don't got a tracer do ya?" Her face turned a lovely shade of purple, trying to keep her calm.

"Now, Cap'n Rose. Since I got'chur 'tention, lets talk about my wages. See I reckon you think me for a fool, ma'am. I know how much each passenger paid, and ma'am I can do math. Give me some credit, I was a Major in my day." He said through slightly slurred words. That purple shade turned a deeper shade.

"Mr. Montgomery, are you drunk?!" She barked, "IN MY SHIP?! PILOTING MY SHIP?!"

Harper nodded, tipping his bottle once more. "My wages, ma'am. You pay me ma full wages and this here vessel will see the inside of your dockin' bay safe and sound." He said politely, taking another swig.

She was outraged, plain and simple, but Harper would not let up.

"Ma'am, I will hock her. Don't think me incapable. I need them wages." He said with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "And I beg ya, now, don't be thinking to shoot me when I come out. I'm a damn good shot." He said matter of factly, "If I recall, thats why you hired me."

She'd been beat, and she knew it.

"Fine, Montgomery. Bring her on back and I'll get yer gorram wages."

With that he tipped his hat, "Thank ya kindly."

He took her down with ease, though as he pulled towards the docking bay the ship swayed lightly. Didn't even scratch the paint. Even drunk Harper Montgomery was a better pilot than little Chuckles. He waved at them as he opened the ramp.

Five minutes later he was holding one of his twin pistols out just in case. Captain Rose handed him another envelope, frowning as she did. "Yer fired, Mr. Montgomery." She hissed as he took it.

"S'all right, Rose. I quit."

[Onas Knox]

The Athena flaunted herself across the stars, gliding through the cold, bitter, black nothingness of space, Santo gleaming before her, breaking the horizon of the universes breathtaking dormancy. The green glow of her thrusters cut nine ion trails through the gape, as her black hull plates imminated the irridesant glow against the dark. Santo now casted its own color against the stern, casting all the colors of the rainbow into prespective, as the Dutchess began her orbit before desent. From her nose, bands of reflection collected, and refracted down her weatherly lines, and further along to the canopy, which all together shined against the sun's reflection beaming against Santo, looming and sharing warmth. Beneath the canopy, two figures could be seen, tiny and insignifigant against the verse, going about their lives in their fashion. A hase of white smoke could be seen lingering around the cabin.

Onas did not wait for Nickolas to avail his opinion, instead, he pressed his own, "Just get us someone who I can trust."

Nick's voice showed his weary focus on their current topic, "That's gett'n slim since you culled the list I gave ya earlier. I take it you don' want anyone from Seph?"

"I just can't trust 'em. I don't know them."

"Well damn Onas, with that kind of mind, who exactly do you trust?"

"I believe you covered that back when we met with Cypher," Onas jabbed.

"True," Nick consented, "But still, you can't drop every name I hand you. What about hiring someone here like we talked about earlier?"

"You know someone here that you think I can trust," Onas asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I know a few. But as to you trust'n 'em... Well. Here, I got this bulletin a few hours back. And then this one. I mean, if you want someone who has active dirt on 'em, this would be a open ticket." Nick handed Onas the readout, and then gave his name, "Harper Montgomary, you remember him, did a couple gigs for us back in seventeen an eighteen. He 'as a hell of a record. Damn good pilot."

"I remember him. I remember firing him for drinking on the job. And I remember him leaving me with a black eye. Not the best of recommendations. And his name is Montgomery. Not mary," Onas answered dryly while reading and taking a few hits off his waning cigarette.

"I know what I said. Hard to pronounce the old world names. An he problebly wouln'a hit you if you hadn' turned on 'im in fron' a Sid. Thas old news though. But see here, he's kept a good record lately. No drunk'an'disorderlies," Nick continued.

Onas pffted at Nicks comments and then pointed out, "It says right here that he was drunk. And this report isn't very old."

Nick snatched the pad from Onas' hand, "All right look, you need to chill. Go smoke a... er go do somethin to relax. Frankly dawg, I'm tired a' sort'n through this la shi jus fo' you to crush every able bodied man I come up with. We need a pilot, and he ain't a fed. I'm puttin my money on Montgomary. End of story. No more searching."

"That's good Nick, Mongomery sounds like a fine last resort. Glad were pickin the best and brightest," Onas retorted in a contrary tone.

Nick turned in his seat, and fixed the Athena's course to enter the gravity well, rotating her around on her axis to offset the burn. "I'm done. Your gonna have to make someone an offer, an it might as well be Harper."

Onas turned to head down to the gathered crew in the Athena's cargo bay, adding only, "Let's hope that you don't regret it."

[Jackson Grimm]

After watching three hours of hard work compiling personnel data on at least thrity potential poilts get thrown in the trash, Jackson had had his fill with Onas being so picky and headed down to the cargo bay.

Buzzing Bella on the way down, Jax began to prepare for their apparent milk run. Gasing up the mule Jackson pondered on just how easy this was going to be, well not really easy cause things in there line of work never were. If it was so easy than the client would have done it themselves...but since they hired the crew it more than likely was going to go sideways, because... UNDERWORLD. Rule number one of the underworld states that "If it sounds to good to be true than you bet your goram ice it is." Jackson was fine with that he had been dealing with sideways crap most of his life, whether it was bad weather in farming or some dope head with a gun if you were perpared for it, it wasn't much of a problem. Jackson being a glasser was use to being put in problmatic situation. Hacking in to Alliance programs and not getting caught was stress to the max, and being asked to do it again and again eventually changed ones mindset on dangreous missions. I know, your asking yourself, what does a guy you plays on a computer all day know about sticky circumstances. Let me tell you friend that one wrong move in the cortex can send every Alliance ship your current location and have them speeding your way in a nano second. But with all that being said you take the left filed mission because, if you pull them off and most of the time you do, you get paid, oh man do you get paid.

It's like being at a ball and asking the most, absolutely gorgeous woman in the entire city to dance with you. More than likely she will say no but hey there is that onnnne chance that she might say...
At any rate, it's high risk high reward. These were the jobs Jackson always got, cause simply those were the one that paid the best and lets face it's all about the money.

Looking over there gear one last time, Jackson called for the cargo bay hatch to be opened. Sun spilling in the cargo by Jackson got his first smell of Santo in almost three months and thaugt to himself "Man, it's kinda nice to be home".

[Onas Knox]

After Claira and Jax went to meet the contact, Onas and Nick made a little venture to the local tin. They did a basic push-past-pull scam, and were given the last known information on Montgomery. Onas was still unsure of whether or not this was truely the best choice, or just 'a' choice, but Nick had clearly sold himself on the prospect. He was already scheming on potential jobs, and locations for their future OPs hq. Like Onas, he was hard to slow down once he got his teeth into something.

"Yeah I hear what your sayin Nico, jus don' buy the place before we need it. Thats all I'm sayin," Onas repeated himself as they strolled to a public terminal. Onas got the wave started, leaving Harper a message to return their inquiry about possible work as soon as possible. After that, it was a waiting game untill Jax could be freed up to conduct a more extensive and thorough search. But, if Harper just so happened to check his messages before Onas had to pay his man to find him, so much the better. As he got the message started, Nick leaned up against the unit, and took a long drink of his beverage before talking again.

"I didn't say I was gonna buy anything. Well, not today. But we can't work from the docking bay back on Seph. We need something out of the way."

"Like a smaller town?"

"No, something off the grid. Like a moon or something, still workin on it. But definantly multiple joints. Keep us mobil, ya know," Nick asked searching the crowded docks for even more oppertunities. He nodded over Onas' left shoulder, "That's a nice piece there."

Onas looked in the direction of Nicks nod with his periphrial while he waited on the terminal to connect him. It would be a nice take, if they had the time and resources. A low end freighter like that, lots of universal parts, back water world. Who would miss it? His scanner tinged, and Onas left his message. A little while now, and they would see what was what.

[Harper Montgomery]

Harper stood in front of a desk glaring at the small, round, man behind it. The clerks nervous hand shook as his chocolate brown eyes noticed the rather daunting pair of pistols on either side of Harpers hips. A short exasperated sigh escaped him as he quickly wrote down his name, and handed him the keys to a room. Harpers large hands yanked the keys free and promptly left the smaller man to hyperventilate. The small machine in his coat pocket screeched at him, and he yanked open the small hidey-hole. The wave machine, as Harper liked to call it, blinked at him. Someone wanted his attention. A deep frown set along his thin lips and he shoved the contraption back in his pocket.

Very few people actually had the line to him, due to him being a fugitive and all. The choices of contacts were limited. Honestly, he assumed it was Sid. Occasionally he'd throw a job his way, but as of late Harper had been flying blind. Not that it worried him much.

Harper paused at the bar to snag two bottles of whiskey before heading to his rented room. The door slammed behind him. and the building surrounded it seemed to almost moan with the sudden force. He lumbered further into the room, tossing his coat on the bed along with his hat. Hands worn from both farmwork and war ran through his greying hair. He couldn't help the sigh that escaped his lips, finally he'd be able to drink in peace. And with his full pay to boot.

The room itself smelled of decay and dust. He was certain the clerk had saddled him with the worst room they had. It had a living area, furnished with an off-green couch. The couch smelled of mold, and looked as if moths had been slowly eating it away. The living area connected to the bedroom and the tiny bathroom. The bed didn't look half as bad as the rest of the room, and that was all fine with him. Pressed against the far wall, adjacent to the bed, sat a large desk. It looked worn, and eaten with termites, but atop it sat a wavepoint.

He was surprised this run down "inn" had a wavepoint. He pushed the small device into the dusty holder, and grinned at the larger holographic screen. The face that greeted him was not what he expected. In fact Harper never thought he'd hear from Onas again, they didn't exactly see eye to eye. He couldn't help from frowning at the message, listening half heartedly. The idea of working for Onas did not please him one bit. They'd force him to hold back on the booze... And no doubt he and Onas would have plenty of heated discussions. Though he would enjoy putting a thorn in the mans side.

He was still a bit on the angry side about their last parting. Calling him out was one thing. Calling him out in front of Sid was a whole different ballpark. One that Harper did not appreciate... So the idea of the same man signing his paychecks was... not very appealing.

None the less he needed to get off this junkyard of a planet and get more money under his belt. He had no hope of finding Isla with these small time jobs, and he knew Onas would definitely open a few doors for better pay.

Harper rested his feet on the desk, still staring at Onas' mug. He cracked open a bottle of whiskey, holding it up to the frozen holograph in a sarcastic manner before taking a long swallow. He didn't have to like the fellow, but he could work for him... well maybe.

Harper tugged on his beard with his free hand, thinking to himself. He reached into his vest pocket, removing the small pocket watch. His thumb slid over the opening mechanism, not quite pressing it just yet. Cornflower blue eyes stared at the gold exterior, a hint of sadness creeping into his gaze. No one would ever see that look in his eye, of that he was certain. But here, alone, he could remember what he'd lost and what he was still trying to get back.

Finally he pressed the button, the little door swinging open to reveal the face of a clock and a holograph. The tiny memory frozen in time stared back at him with unwavering smiles. The glimmer in his wifes eyes was almost too much to bear, and he slapped the golden door shut. Fine. He'd put aside his dislike for the man and do a couple of jobs with Onas. Maybe they'd get him closer to finding Isla.

Harper closed out the message, his fingers dancing over the holographic buttons to return the wave. He sat back in his chair, cradling the bottle in his lap without a care. Patiently he waited. He didn't think Onas would answer right away so instead he went ahead and started recording.

"Didn't think I'd hear from the likes of you any time soon. But if yer lookin' fer a pilot I got the time to do just that. Recently became available fer some work. Currently I'm on Santo, just finished some transport. Ain't got no ship of my own, so you'll have to make a stop fer me if you want me." He said coldly. The words could have been friendly, but leaving Harpers mouth in his gravel like voice they sounded nearly hostile.

He told them where the Inn was located and what room they could find him in and finished with, "But I ain't quit drinkin' so don't 'spect me to." And with that he shut the wave off, and went back to enjoying the peace and quiet. He'd know soon enough if Onas was desperate enough to choose a pilot he didn't like.