Rachel nodded cordially to Badger, not quite sure how to respond. As cliché as it might have seemed, she had quite honestly expected him to be taller. Granted, he looked to be taller than she was, but that wasn't much of a feat. Rachel cleared her throat. "Pleasure's ours, sir. This's my mechanic Carl Dexter, and my cook, Saul." Badger nodded politely, and Rachel looked around for a place to sit down. There were no chairs in the office except the one Badger was sitting in—this man obviously didn't want to his guests to forget their place. He wanted to keep them on edge. And that was exactly where Rachel was. "To what do we owe the honor of this meeting? The wave didn't…"

"Aw, just wanted the chance to meet you, zhen qing. You're startin' to get a reputation, and I make it a point to know everyone's lookin' to make a name for themselves."

Rachel looked at Dex, a little surprised. He shrugged. "Not to sound overly humble, but who exactly we got a reputation with?"

"Oh, only in select circles. Word reached my ears, for instance, from a mutual business associate." He turned toward the navy curtains that separated the office from whatever room was behind it. "Won't you join us now, Cap'n?"

As the heavyset red-haired man parted the curtains, Rachel's eyes widened and her hand instinctively went to the small of her back, where her ten-shooter would have been resting, had it not been in its holster on her bed back on Artemis. They'd all come unarmed—they had, after all, wanted to make a good impression. Captain Farr grinned.

"So, Cap'n Farr. These the ones managed to bully you out of the fifth of that fruit was comin' my way?"

Rachel swore silently to herself. It never went smooth…

"Yessir. That's them."

Badger grinned and turned back to his captive audience. "See, I had a pretty solid arrangement with Mr. Farr, 'ere. He uses his ironclad negotiatin' skills to make one of those crates disappear, it comes my way and I make it worth 'is while. Can anyone 'ere tell me why that song didn' play?" Rachel glanced silen