A Defiant 'Verse - In Character
POSTED BY: Defiant2thelast
UPDATED: Thursday, July 23, 2009 08:49
VIEWED: 32764
PAGE 10 of 10
"I'm Mei Lara," she introduced herself. "I've got thousands of EVA hours. I have experience in mining, salvage, and demolitions operations." She recalled the countless times she was bribed/cajoled/drafted into helping Terrence fix something. "I spent most of my life on board a spaceship, so I can help with a lot of repairs... and I've served with the Independent Navy since the start of the war." She needed to get that out - it would come out soon anyway, and if this captain was backing the Alliance, she didn't want to fly on his ship.
"My ship was destroyed near Athens a month ago. I made it here on a damaged shuttle. I'm mostly done with fighting, but I'd really like to get back out in the black." Part of her did want to get back into the fight, to avenge her homeship and family. But a greater part of her was tired. At minimum, she needed a few months doing (relatively) peaceful work.
"Oh, and I have my own spacesuit," she gestured to what she was wearing. It was a little obvious, but she thought it bore saying.
But... FOR THE LOVE OF EXPLOSIVES!
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“Great story” Nathan put in; if she went on anymore he’d find his way to the nearest air lock and vent himself. “I’m sure there are plenty of crews in need of people of your obvious talent, but we’re not one of them.”
Nathan didn’t believe her. It wouldn’t have been the first to come up with fanciful stories that told the subject that he or she was the best in the business.
*Make sure you check the OOC thread later Meshakhad, I'll have a post up soon.*
Lincolnz: Buttle... to duel with ones buttocks
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Moe gathered up his effects and shoved them into his backpack at random, abstracting the packing process with his destination within a mere dozen steps walking. He tuned out the women's inquiries and brazen self-promotion, but pricked up his ears at captain Rey's appearance, spying on the ensuing exchange from his knelt position by the edge the loading ramp.
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“Great story” Nathan put in; if she went on anymore he’d find his way to the nearest air lock and vent himself. “I’m sure there are plenty of crews in need of people of your obvious talent, but we’re not one of them.”
He shook with quiet amusement, his brows furrowed and his lips in a loose sneer. Takes more than a shiny dress to land yourself a room in this castle, princess. He commended the girl for her doggedness, questing after offworld work fresh out of the throes of war as she was, but wandering the docks, stopping at random airlocks asking for work was a crapshoot, no matter your qualifications. He pulled the zipper up as high as it would go, then got up off his knees, a suitcase in each hand and his haphazard bundle of belongings slung over his shoulder, a denim pant leg dangling slapdash from the yawning backpack.
He walked up the ramp and raised a luggage-laden hand as means of greeting. "Mornin' captain," he called, his voice loud so as to assert his presence. "Permission to come aboard?"
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When Lincoln had said ‘Solicitors’, Nathan had assumed he meant ‘People he really didn’t need to care about, and it was probably time to practice those reject lines on the party’. It was this; Nathan told himself, that was the cause of the oversight.
“Permission granted. It’s nice to finally have a proper mechanic aboard.” Nathan glanced over at the last of the trio. “We’ll arrange quarters for you in a second.”
Nathan had guessed that there was about a decade between the woman and himself, but it was quite obvious she’d been through a lot more scrapes then he had. Either she was looking for a fight, or she was looking to be paid to fight.
Lincolnz: Buttle... to duel with ones buttocks
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Shade stood back, somewhere between annoyed and fed up. She had thought she had just gave her spiel and was awaiting the Captain's yea or nay on her hiring. It was completely normal for a First Mate to pre-interview new crew, she'd gone through it more than a few times. Instead, the man had shown up with every sign of telling everyone to get their pigus off his boat. Mei had sort of jumped in to toss out a full resume and life summary, earning her a irritated and impatient blow-off. Shade's instincts told her to wait. They told her the ball was in the other court - she'd served it when she'd introduced herself to him, not it was his turn to pass to the Captain, and the Captain would pass it back. Or so she assumed.. that was how it usually worked.
Until Mei finished, either by stepping up and giving the captain a real reason to hire her, Shade was content to wait until it was her turn. She stepped out of the way of Pack Man, as he moved towards entering the ship. He asked for permission to board - he knew the courtesies. He'd said it was sort of his boat, and she wondered while she waited if he was a part owner, resident, crew... but the Captain referred to him as a mechanic, and Shade understood. He was crew. Not in charge of hiring, so just as well she hadn't gotten around to actually asking him for work.
That restless little voice that sometimes yelled a little too loud was speaking up now. It wanted her to move on, just leave this mess and try another ship. Unconsciously, she looked up at the nose of the ship, above them, and thought again how she rather liked these fireflies. How they sort of just drew you in, maybe something about the vaguely animal shape, the head and body, the suggestion of something.. living.
Or not. Maybe they were just cute. She dropped her eyes to the conversations in front of her, not wanting to miss her cue when the First Mate passed on her introduction. Or until someone seemed ready to hear her. She wasn't a puppy, she was a finely tuned (if often abused) tool, and for all she knew, this crew might not know what to do with her. Not that she wouldn't be happy hauling cargo to their next destination. She just had to get off this tin can, get moving again. Her hands had returned to her pockets, and with them, the flask. She hooked her thumbs on her pockets, hands hanging outside, her stance deceptively tense. She seemed relaxed, even bored. She was neither. Tense and irritated, impatient and a little nervous, maybe.
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"Oh, and I have my own spacesuit," she said, gesturing to her gear.
Lincoln's eyebrow shot up, having already noticed the get-up she was wearing but thinking it wise not to point it out. It wasn't everyday you saw someone walking around suited up for a cold jaunt, at least someone who wasn't maintenance staff. For being raving bugnuts crazy she certainly seemed confident, he gave her that much.
"I’m sure there are plenty of crews in need of people of your obvious talent, but we’re not one of them.” Nathan replied, deadpan.
He wasn't surprised at the captain's reaction. It typically wasn't the best idea to walk up and just show your cards. Nathan typically didn't care for that sort of pitch, he'd seen him physically kick someone off the ship for less. She was getting off lucky but he still felt a bit of sympathy for her, if half of what she said was true she might be useful in certain situations.
"Uh this is.." He started to introduce the second woman but was interrupted by the rough looking man with the big pack. He'd finally decided to speak up.
"Mornin' captain, permission to come aboard?"
The Captain granted him permission and mentioned arranging quarters. So this was the mechanic Nathan mentioned hiring, Lincoln had skimmed the man's credentials the day before. He glanced from the man back to the captain, who now seemed to be sizing up the young woman in the long coat. She was glancing up and out of the cargo hold, toward the underside of the hull above the large docking access view-way.
"Like I was saying Captain. This is.. uh.. Shade Whitmore." He hesitated a moment, hoping he got the name correct, then continued. "She's also looking for work, experience in the usual cargo hauling, security."
He added the last word firmly, with a subtle twist to the inflection, indicating the obvious meaning behind the commonly used term. He realized it was probably unneeded, Nate had a keen eye for that sort of folk.
"This would, of course, be Captain Rey." Lincoln introduced his captain, feeling like it was pointless by now but trying to stick to protocol. He wasn't used to so many people around at once, they'd been a small crew for some time now.
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"Progress doesn't come from early risers — progress is made by lazy men looking for easier ways to do things." Robert A. Heinlein
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Nathan sized up the positives and negatives of hiring Whitmore. On one hand, the extra gun hand would help on the planed job, especially if thinks went to what he expected. He couldn’t shake however, that it would add to the cost of a job that was supposed to make a substantial amount of platinum, when most of his crew knew how to train a gun on someone.
“Preferably I wouldn’t need you, Whitmore.” Nathan took a dramatic pause, hoping his wording was ambiguous enough to cast doubt on what his ruling would be. “I’ll give you a steady cut of three percent of earnings. Assuming things aren’t preferable, you’ll have twelve percent combat earning.”
While the idea was she would rush in and accept it without thinking, giving Nathan peace in the profit dilemma, he was concerned on the ominous figure of twelve percent. When people weren’t shooting, it was considered strange. Christ, it was the middle of a fucking war. Twelve percent? Nathan suppressed a groan. What the hell was I thinking?
Lincolnz: Buttle... to duel with ones buttocks
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It's time for a new thread. It can be found here:
http://www.fireflyfans.net/mthread.asp?b=17&t=39233
Lincolnz: Buttle... to duel with ones buttocks
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