If you want to hear the song) - the video is silly but the song is great.

Reach a hand to the crescent moon
grab hold of the hollow.
If she sits in the palm of the left
that moon will be fuller tomorrow.
If she sits in the palm of the right
that moon is on the wane
and the love of the one who shares your bed
will be doing just the same.

Won't you come with me, she said,
`there's plenty of room in my iron bed
You're looking cold and tired
and more than a little human
I know I'm not part of the life you had planned,
but I think once your body feels my hand
your mind will change
and your heart will lose its pain'

Out among the fields gently hipped
beneath the corn,
Assiniboine bones beneath the highway
he stood there and he thought of home
A finger traces the path of a satellite
You're drawn to a distant copse of trees
A voice as sweet as Mare's Tail
clings to the prairie breeze

`Won't you come with me', she said,
there's plenty of room in my iron bed
You're looking cold and tired
and more than a little human
I know I'm not part of the life you had planned,
but I think once your body feels my hand
your mind will change
and your heart will lose its pain.

Do I reach for you
when I know you're on the wane?
Do I sense you when I know you're not around?
Do I search for you
when I know you can't be found?
Do I dare to speak your name?

Raise your eyes to a moonless sky
and try to wish upon a rising star.
Search all you want for her blessing
but you won't find her sparkling there.
Now cast your eyes to a part of the sky
where nothing but darkness unfolds
and watch as all around you
she reveals the brilliance of secrets untold.

Won't you come with me, she said,
there's plenty of room in my iron bed.
You're looking cold and tired
and more than a little human.
I know I'm not part of the life you had planned,
but I think once your body feels my hand
your mind will change
and your heart will lose its pain.

"First off Captain, I would like to apologize for my mode of dress. my client is man of many needs and I am here as they say, on his payroll. " The young lady said as she entered the front room of the guest cabin. She was a companion, that could not be mistaken as she was very beautiful and had a strong allure to her in every way. But she had a skin tone and face that made her look not a day over 16 years old and the school girls uniform she wore added to her youthfulness.

"Atherton Wing has asked for me to be there for his birthday celebration, on Persophone. The event is two weeks away so I need a fast ship, as I have heard Destiny is if the stoies are true. Atherton is offering 3000 credits if you get me there on time. I will give you a deposit of 300 up from, and pay for your fuel tank to be filled. It will just be me, and about three pieces of luggage - I travel light and i promise to dress more demure during the flight. of course, there will be no servicing of you crew on my part - noi exceptions captain. I find it is best to keep things ... separated."
And so it began...

Tess did the astrogation and figured that you could be there in seven days, no problem. It would involve some straight path and hard burn but easy enough to do. the promise of 3000 credits certainly was a good one and after some checking, it was determined that Atherton was a very rich man on Persophone and known to a bit of a Wong Ba Duhn but would pay a lot for what he wanted.

Priscilla did dress in a more conservative style on board, and got alone with everyone quite well, except grace would did her usual retreat around strangers. She stayed to her room mostly and avoided any places that would cause issues. You didn't have any other passengers or cargo and she was more easier on the eyes than the 14 crates of chickens you hauled to Higgin's Moon before getting this job.

But Priscilla started to feel ill after a couple of days out. The ship doctor, Brian at first thought it was food poisoning (after all it was Ken's turn to cook last night) but the symptoms kept getting worse no matter what he gave her and getting worse fast. After two more days, Brian knew he was dealing with something that he couldn't do anything with the equipment he had on board - she had to be taken to a hospital.

The closest planet was Greenleaf - a fertile tropical paradise where medical companies grow remedies that can be chemically created, rich people vacation on expensive beaches and foodstuffs are grown in abundance. Problem was, Alliance doesn't let people land on Greenleaf without a clearance check and authorization code. But Priscilla's ID and Brian's urgent description of her condition get you a pass to land in a temperate zone closest to hospital - beside a town and wine making community called Momma's Vineyard.

A hover-ambulance is waiting and takes the companion and Brian away to the hospital. After 24 hours, Brian returns (on foot) to let the crew know that Priscilla is alive and recovering but it was a close call. Whatever got into her system, tore through it pretty bad and she will be three weeks recovering at the hospital at least. Brian got word through a nurse that the companion was poisoned with something that lay dormant for days before activating and doesn't leave a trace. It was only luck and Brian's attempt to isolate food poisoning that kept her alive this long. She would have had it for a day or two before coming on board, so the crew and ship are not under investigation and are free to go.

Three weeks is a long time, definitely pass the point of the Mr. Wing birthday. When you make the call to inform him, his assistant is polite, cordial but doesn't not offer you any compensation for the lost job - suggesting that the onus is on Priscilla.

So, you are stuck with no cargo. Greenleaf medical companies all use contract couriers, vacationers use luxury transports and you are neither. The wine merchants are a possibility but they usually ship with bigger boats than yours. Furthermore, the port authority here doesn't want you to stay around long and enforces it with a port docking of 30 credits a day! Not to mention that you really can't go anywhere as the taxis, food and access fees on this gorram planet are 100 credit per person at minimum.

You are all in the port authority Cantina Bar, the only place you can afford to drink (as long as you order Rum Punch or the local beer). You have put Destiny down as available on the want-ad boards and looked at the same boards for jobs (too big, guild, guild, guild, guild, too big, ick, guild).

The topic of deadheading to the nearest planet that might have cargo has come up when a man walks into the bar. He is a thin man, with thin brown hair, moustache and eyes that seem to be a bit bulged. (picture Steve Buscemi) He wears a white smock over his clothing that is stained with purple and red - a vintner, most likely. he looks around the mostly empty place and then comes directly over to your table.

"Hi!" He says with a nervous smile and a nod, "You the crew of that ship out there? The black one? I need a ship that can get some casks of wine to Osiris quickly. I mean real quick. Is it a fast ship? I need a fast ship. Real fast."

Kenneth McCormick, or Ken as he liked to be called, had been aboard Destiny for about a year now. When he first came aboard, hired as a extra gun, he was a bit of a loner. He still is a loner for the most part; he tends to do things that can be solitary; working out with the weights, martial arts, and guns are some of favorite past times.

But in that time aboard Ken has come to know the crew; and them to know him somewhat. He still maintains a solitary nature and seldom talks about his past. But the one thing the crew has learned about Ken is that they can count on him in a fight; with guns, fists or just about anything he has shown himself to be quite handy to have around the ship.

He can be a bit rough and even crude at times; he maintains a colorful vocabulary at times and often can say embarrassing things in public without regard for where he is or who is present.

This was ever present when the Companion Priscilla came aboard to talk to the Captain; Ken made his lustful attraction present when she was leaving after having made a deal for transport.

“Hey Honey,” he said as he stood in the cargo bay when she was walking past to leave to prepare for the trip, “I gotta huge ship ya can ride on.” He chuckled as she ignored his quip and continued on off the ship.

Days later, after Ken had taken his turn to fix the days meal, Priscilla had taken ill and Brian had quipped about how they shouldn’t have let Ken cook again.

“Hey what can I say? She didn’t like my ‘special sauce’.” Ken grinned slightly and shrugged. Though inside he was worried about the woman, she was very hot and he would hate to see such wonderful female flesh wasted.

What Ken really didn’t like was being stuck on Greenleaf and the loss of their well paying job of ferrying the Whore. He wasn’t very good with money, he spent it on Companions, guns, and often gambled it away and he could have used his share of the fee on that job. Now here they sat, no job prospects, little money, and he was board.

Ken sat in the Cantina Bar, drinking a couple of local beers, smoking cigarettes, with the rest of the crew and shook his head as he took another drink.

“Ta Ma Duh, this is some horrible swill,” he said and made a face at the only drinks they could afford, “it tastes like I washed my underwear in this stuff last week.”

Looking up, Ken spotted the man in a white smock enter the bar and look around; when the man headed directly towards them he attracted the Captain’s attention.

“Hey Boss,” he said and nodded towards the man when Jon looked his way, “seems someone is interested in us.”

Quietly Ken’s right hand moved to hang at his side; he didn’t touch the PeaceKeeper pistol slung there but he could have it in use in short order if needed. He looked past the man to see if anyone else was with him and then scanned the room to see if anyone else was paying them any ‘extra’ attention.

When the man spoke and inquired about their ship; he only smirked slightly as he took in the appearance of the man. A light weight for sure; this man was no threat though people that could work for him might be.

"It might be," he said to the man's questions, "but speed can be expensive."

He might have spoken out of turn; it being the Captain's place to make deals, but it was something that Ken did, speaking without thinking sometimes.

Brian grinned, sat nearby at the same table. Ken's habit for saying the wrong - or at least inappropriate - things often came into play.

He joined the crew a long long time ago, trying to leave his home planet of Osiris, with the little cash he had. Through swift persuasion he managed to get aboard as a passenger to "Anywhere", but soon proved invaluable to the crew as only medical professions can be.

There were always broken people needing fixing. When you have more breakers than fixers.. well, with Ken and the captain around, he wasn't exactly bored.

"How in the 'Verse did you get that knife blade in your stomach??" he had asked after a quick, almost routine checkup.
"Aaah, that was a brawl three years ago," Ken had cooly replied with a smirk.
Brian was continuously knocked speechless by the amount of punishment these two could take.
It had now become routine to check those two every time they got back from some task on the surface. They always got some injury, and every single time he found other problems from long ago.

And the train of thought derailled again.

As he took a swig of his drink... and swallowed reluctantly. It was pretty bad, and he didn't even know what it was. He winced.

Ice clinked softly as it melted in a glass of Rum Punch. Tess idly wiped the condensation off of the side before taking another sip. The liquor was strong and severe; whatever filler had been added to it did nothing to diffuse the astringent taste. The wait was nearly unbearable. The pilot had never taken to sitting on her pi gu doing nothing very well. But what could be done? They had posted Destiny’s information on the Greenleaf listing boards in hopes for some work. But with no prospects, it was turning out to be a rather dull yet arduous wait.

“Ta Ma Duh, this is some horrible swill,” Ken said, pulling a face, “it tastes like I washed my underwear in this stuff last week.” Smoke curled around the ash tray where he had set his most recent cigarette.

Tess finally spoke up the thought that had been playing through her mind for the last day or so, “You know, we have enough fuel left, we could deadhead to the next planet. Might have a bit more work than this high falutent guild chao qian planet. Sitting around is doing nothing but costing us.”

“Hey Boss,” Ken nodded towards the entrance, “seems someone is interested in us.”

Tess looked around. The man who was striding up towards them looked every bit the part of a vintner. His white smock showed wine blots, and it looked like his hands were stained purple. He had a nervous air about him, even more so with the way his eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head.

"Hi!" he attempted a smile, but his anxiousness was seeping through every word, “You the crew of that ship out there? The black one? I need a ship that can get some casks of wine to Osiris quickly. I mean real quick. Is it a fast ship? I need a fast ship. Real fast."

"It might be," responded Ken almost immediately, "but speed can be expensive."

Tess rolled her eyes. Jason or the captain were usually the ones to open negotiations, but this time neither had been fast enough for their luh suh talking crew member. Settling back into her chair, she took another sip of her drink. The liquid continued to burn down her throat. It was better to stay out of this portion. She was just thankful that the man wasn’t looking to come aboard. He was twitchy, to say the least, and that never sat comfortably with her.

Sipping on a cool beer, sitting at a table watching the bar, Jason wondered if he’d ever been to this planet before. His family had traveled for pleasure a bit, not that he’d have ever seen this side of town if he’d been here with his family. Jason chuckled under his breath at the thought of his jing tsai father on this side of town. He was grateful for the chance to unwind on one of the more pleasant planets for a change, not that he had any money to gamble or really drink with, and there was the fact that they had landed here to get medical help for the companion. A slight smile on his face, Jason replays Ken’s first attempt at flirting with the companion.

“Hey Honey,” Ken called as he stood in the cargo bay when Priscilla was walking past on her way out to prepare for the trip, “I gotta huge ship ya can ride on.” Priscilla had ignored him as a companion should and continued gracefully on her way. Jason had turned and gone back to his information gathering on the prospective job. “Atherton Wing, hmmm I think I remember that name”

Jason’s smile faltered as he remembered the events of the last couple of days.

Priscilla had come down with something a couple of days out and the joke was it was Ken’s cooking that had done it to her. Two days later, the Doc said she needed a hospital. The nearest planet, Greenleaf, had what was needed but landing was a hassle. The Doc and Priscilla were rushed off and when Brian came back with the news of Priscilla’s condition… the job was a lost cause and a three week wait on this Planet? Out of the question.

Jason focused back in on the conversation as it turned to the topic of deadheading came up and watched as the stranger entered the bar hearing Ken give the Captain a heads-up.

“Hey Boss,” Ken said and nodded towards the man when Jon looked his way, “seems someone is interested in us.” Jason noted Ken’s hand casually hang down next to the Peacekeeper lashed to his leg and shook his head slightly thinking ruefully, ”I suppose that’s one way to prepare for trouble.”
"Hi!" The stranger said with a nervous smile and a nod, "You the crew of that ship out there? The black one? I need a ship that can get some casks of wine to Osiris quickly. I mean real quick. Is it a fast ship? I need a fast ship. Real fast."

Jason had just started to stand and introduce himself when Ken said, “It might be, but speed can be expensive.” Jason finished standing, extended a hand and said, “My apologies, I am Jason Siong and you are?” After getting the man’s name Jason continued, “What my friend here was trying to say was yes, as a matter of fact you have managed to find the crew of the black ship outside. Yes, she is fast, but as far as how fast that comes down to you sir. Now, if you’d please have a seat I’m sure that we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement.” Jason motioned the gentlemen to a seat and signaled the barkeep for a round of top shelf beverages for himself, the captain, and the Vinter.

(OOC: I’m assuming that Jason has enough cashy money to do this as he’s not really had too much of a chance to spend/lose his share of the recent bounty.)

Ken frowned a bit at Jason; he had said exactly what he meant to say and didn’t need no one to tell someone what he meant. But Ken kept his mouth closed, he would admit that Jason had an excellent way with words and if he was negotiating for a job then Ken would keep quiet and let him work.

He sighed slightly at the thought of the top-shelf drinks that Jason ordered for the prospective client, the Captain and himself; he downed the last of his swill and made another face at the sour taste. He decided against any more; he saved what little money he had left, which wasn’t much after losing in cards the other night to Jason.

Ken didn’t have much luck with his money; he often lost it in cards or other gambling either to his shipmates or at places they stopped. What he spent was often giving little in return; companions, booze, cigarettes; they left little to show for once the money was gone.

Ken turned his attention to his job; he let Jason and the Captain worry about the client, he kept his eyes out in the room scanning the people searching for anything out of the ordinary or anyone with any undue attention towards their table.

Why does no ever believe me when I tell them not to work for rich folk? There is always problems! Thought Grace as she and her friends sat in the Cantina Bar. Grace was refusing to drink the soda, she had paid for. Was anyone surprised? Instead of giving her the can, they had pour her drink for her. How do I know you didn't put something in it? Was the honest thought crossing her mind. Of course, Grace knew she was being paranoid but habits are tough to break. She had problems breaking this habit. A slight sigh passed her lips as she thought about the events leading to this moment.

Grace remembered the Priscilla lady very well. She was a companion which had Grace feel very uncomfortable. So no one on the ship was surprised that Grace stayed in the engine rooms. While Grace doesn't like strangers, she didn't want them dead. When Priscilla had taken ill, most had figured it was Ken's cooking (which caused Grace to chuckle since Priscilla had set foot on the ship). Then two days later, Brian said he need to get her to the hospital. Grace was concerned and didn't protest going to Greenleaf. They had landed near a wine yard and got Priscilla to the hospital as quickly as possible. Turns out she was poisoned with something and Mr. Wings refused to pay them for their work.

While Grace defiantly was glad they saved the woman's life, she wasn't happy about their location. Greenleaf was known to be export/import galore with wine., medicine (and possible drug) supplies. However it was only like that if you had a contract. Then it was like being a fly on the outside of a air tight candy jar. None of her contacts wanted to offer anything since Greenleaf was practically raining Alliance. Even her favourite and most reliable contact, Yukiko had turned her down. The thought of her conversation with Yukiko made Grace squirm in her seat. Grace was normally honest with her friends about her contacts but sometimes she didn't tell them all her secrets.

Start of Flash back "Kaida, you are on Greenleaf. I can't give you anything. It would be a Tze sah ju yi to both our jobs." Yukiko's image said through Grace's private communication bow which was in her room. Yukiko looked to be in her early twenties with white hair that complimented her red eyes. Yukiko was an albino who was one of the black market's best hackers of information. If you needed a job or need some info; you went to her.

"I know that. I am not a Buhn Dahn. Listen I need a favour. It involves a little hacking and looking at a Lao Buhn Ni'un dirty little secrets." offered Grace knowing Yukiko would want it. Immediately Yukiko grinned and sat up straighter. Grace had her interest

"You know the guy in charge of Higgins Moon?" Asked Grace.
Yukiko nodded and replied "Yeah. He a real jerk. Barely feeds his workers and gossips spreads about him and companions. What do you want to know?"

"The lady, we were transporting, nearly died due to poisoning." Grace explained "The only person with enough credits to...umm... work with her would be Mr. Higgins himself. Can you see if there any news about fight between Higgins and Priscilla? Or if Priscilla had any enemies?"

Yukiko nodded but she frowned. "Kaida, to be blunt with you. Why do you care? The lady had nothing to do with you or Matthew." She asked. Grace sighed

"Yuki, It doesn't sit well. Why would anyone want a companion dead? The lady didn't appear suicidal. I have friends with enemies. I just making sure none are trying to get them. I will never let anyone hurt my friends.
End of Flash back
“Ta Ma Duh, this is some horrible swill,” Ken said, pulling a face, “it tastes like I washed my underwear in this stuff last week.” Smoke curled around the ash tray where he had set his most recent cigarette. This comment brought Grace out of her thoughts.

"Then why are you drinking it?" muttered Grace who did not see the point of drinking something that tasty nasty.

“You know, we have enough fuel left, we could deadhead to the next planet. Might have a bit more work than this high falutent guild chao qian planet. Sitting around is doing nothing but costing us.” Said Tess who was wiping her drink. Grace liked that idea and was about to say something when Ken caught her attention.

“Hey Boss,” he said and nodded towards the man when Jon looked his way, “seems someone is interested in us.” Quietly Ken’s right hand moved to hang at his gun, a universal sign of TROUBLE!!! Grace moved her head just enough to look at the man without showing much of her face. A thin man, with thin brown hair, moustache and big eyes entered the bar. He wore a white smock that's stained with purple and red. He looks around the mostly empty place and then comes directly over to yhe table.

"Hi!" He says with a nervous smile and a nod, "You the crew of that ship out there? The black one? I need a ship that can get some casks of wine to Osiris quickly. I mean real quick. Is it a fast ship? I need a fast ship. Real fast." Grace frowned at him. The twitchy feeling rising in her gut.

The purple would match grape juice but red? That could be wine or blood. What's in the jugs? Wine or body pieces? The man was way too jumpy. What's making you twitch, buddy? Guilt, excitement, fear or do you have a natural twitch?
Of course Grace kept her mouth shut. Being paranoid and asking questions don't get you money.

"It might be," responded Ken, "but speed can be expensive." Tess rolled her eyes and Jason quickly introduced himself to the man. Grace shot Jason a glare. Of course, let that weirdly stained man know your name. Why not let him sit down and buy him a drink? As if he read her thoughts, Jason immediately did just that. Grace shot him another glare and had to bite back her grunt of annoyance. However Grace kept her mouth shut and let Jason handle the details. Ken was looking around the room. Trusting Ken's abilities, Grace stayed silent ad just looked at the possible client. She didn't need to like the customers, to still take the job and the money.

It had been a nice job too. Three thousand credits. Three. Thousand. Just to ferry a pretty woman across the 'verse. Hardly a tasking job, and certainly better than those damned chickens that had been his last passenger. Jon had really hated those chickens, the cargo bay still smelled slightly off and he'd not really got a good deal of credits for it anyway. But has had happened time and time again, just as things were looking up, they managed to come crashing down. Of course Priscilla had been mysteriously poisoned days before they'd met, otherwise that would have almost been like free money. If there was one thing Jon had learned since finding Destiny, there was no such thing as free money.

Brian had explained the situation to him, mostly in terms he couldn't understand, but Jon got the gist of it, which had certainly been a good thing for Ken. If Ken had poisoned the nice lady that was going to pay his bills for the next few cycles with his “cooking” he'd have been washing that cargo bay until no one could tell they'd been hauling chickens through the Black. Hell, he might see if he could get him to do that anyway, that smell really was annoying.

Jon grinned at the thought, looking over at Ken as he pounded back another of what these locals called “beer”. From the taste of it, Jon was beginning to think that prolonged exposure would result in one joining Priscilla in the hospital, but everything else of this gorram planet was apparently worth more than he cared to pay. With a sigh, Jon raised his glass to his lips and took another swig. It was less than pleasant.

“Ta Ma Duh, this is some horrible swill,” Ken muttered, “it tastes like I washed my underwear in this stuff last week.”
Jon set his glass down, the combination of the taste and mental image Ken provided making another drink rather unappealing.

”You wash?” Jon said with a small laugh, giving the big man a joking punch in the arm. He hardly seemed to notice however, his attention drawn across the cantina.

“Hey Boss, seems someone is interested in us.”
Jon followed his gaze across the room to the man who'd just arrived. His thin frame and twitchy manner initially made Jon uneasy, but his apron identified him as some sort of vintner. In his peripheral vision Jon could see Ken reaching down towards his pistol, which Jon supposed was exactly why he paid the man. Tried to pay him. Always meant to pay him. They really needed a big job soon.

”Alright, we all know the deal, we let Jason and I do the talking.” Jon took a quick second to prep his team as the man walked over to their table. If this was any sort of job, Jon wanted it. He wanted off this gorram planet and he wanted to be making credits while he did so.

"Hi!", the man said with a nervous smile and a nod, "You the crew of that ship out there? The black one? I need a ship that can get some casks of wine to Osiris quickly. I mean real quick. Is it a fast ship? I need a fast ship. Real fast."
Jon was about to respond when Ken cut in.

"It might be," Ken blurted, caused Jon to shoot Tess an exasperated look, "but speed can be expensive."
Before Jon could think too much about making Ken clean chicken s*** out of the cargo bay, Jason thankfully stood up and cut in.

“My apologies, I am Jason Siong and you are?” After getting the man’s name Jason continued, “What my friend here was trying to say was yes, as a matter of fact you have managed to find the crew of the black ship outside. Yes, she is fast, but as far as how fast that comes down to you sir. Now, if you’d please have a seat I’m sure that we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement.”
Jason returned to his seat, and signalled the barkeep for a small round for Jon, the client and himself, and Jon breathed a sigh of relief as he pushed his cup of unpalatable swill over towards Ken's side of the table. As the new arrival made himself comfortable at the table, Jon extended a hand.

”Jon Brown, I captain that black beauty you were referring to.” Jon introduced himself with a grin, ”You said you were looking for a fast ship, and I assure you whether you'll hauling casks or wine or outrunning a reaver boarding party, there's no ship you want save mine. Now I'm not sure why you need wine moved so fast, and I'm sure you can talk plenty about it, but I always found credits talk all for themselves, so what say we cut to the chase here. You give us a where, when and a price, and we'll get to makin' it happen.”
Jon ignored what was sure to be an incredulous look from Jason, who normally handled many of their price negotiations. Jon wanted off this planet, and he wanted to be paid to get this planet. The man struck him as suspicious and the request seemed strange at best, but if he had the credits, Jon would undoubtedly take a run at it. Surely he couldn't hit two bad jobs in a row.

Surely.

"It might be but speed can be expensive." Ken said abruptly.

“My apologies, I am Jason Siong and you are?”
“Norman. Norman Sellers. That's me. Nice to meet you Jason.” He smiles and introduces himself to each of you.

Jason continued, “What my friend here was trying to say was yes, as a matter of fact you have managed to find the crew of the black ship outside. Yes, she is fast, but as far as how fast that comes down to you sir. Now, if you’d please have a seat I’m sure that we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

Jason returned to his seat, and signaled the barkeep for a small round for Jon, the client and himself, and Jon breathed a sigh of relief as he pushed his cup of unpalatable swill over towards Ken's side of the table. As Mr. Sellers made himself comfortable at the table, Jon extended a hand.

”Jon Brown, I captain that black beauty you were referring to.” Jon introduced himself with a grin, ”You said you were looking for a fast ship, and I assure you whether you'll hauling casks or wine or outrunning a reaver boarding party, there's no ship you want save mine. Now I'm not sure why you need wine moved so fast, and I'm sure you can talk plenty about it, but I always found credits talk all for themselves, so what say we cut to the chase here. You give us a where, when and a price, and we'll get to makin' it happen.”

“Well that I can do and it is good to hear.” The man looks around nervously and then speaks to the barkeep as he comes up, “Tony, can you get a bottle of the Bin 47 for us? Make it two and put it on my tab. Yeah, thanks.” He looks around the room once more. “You might as well taste what it is you are hauling right? Right? Or I hope you'll haul. Cause I need someone to haul it. Right?” he says with a broad smile looking at all the people at the table. He stops at the sight of Grace’s sore face. “Whoa. Listen babe, whoever you think I killed, it wasn’t me. I make wine and that’s all. Grape stains only right?” He says with arms stretched out and a humorous grin - a valiant if misguided attempt to be funny.

(assuming that the mechanic doesn't kill your client)

Tony brings out two bottles of wine with enough glasses for all, uncorking the wine and pouring a hearty sample for all. Norman takes his glass gives it a slow sniff and then downs his entire glass. “Yeah – that’s a good batch. Anyway…where was I?”

(Assuming someone gets Norn back on track. The wine is excellent for those who have a palette for fine wine. Even if you don’t it is pretty good and you see by the label and the menu that it is usually 100 credits a bottle)

“Right. Right. Okay. Right. You see, there is a lord on Osiris, good friend of mine actually. Well more of a business associate. Long time...yes. Baron Otello and I have had an arrangement for years where he throws this really big social event, you know like a gala, and he serves my wine. Cause it is the best in the Verse, that is what he says at least. I think so too but I have to be modest. I mean I spent a long time working out the acidity of the soil versus the natural climate of Greenleaf and how certain fertilizers are best used under the weather system that we have here …”

(Assuming someone gets Norn back on track)

“Right. Right. So anyway. Right, my usual transport was suppose to be here three days ago and they haven’t shown up.” He looks around the room again as if he expects to see them walking in, “ Not a word, not a wave, nothing, notta, zilch, zippo. Now that ain’t right? Right? Deadlines are important right? And the party is 10 days away right? And well – I need to make other arrangements right? But it is not like freelancers come to Greenleaf. You can’t even stop to refuel unless you have seven levels of clearance and 20K in your petty cash. Right? Right? “ Norn stops to refill his glass and suck it down in a single gulp again. “So I’m thinking that I’m gorram humped when I see that you are here. So this makes things right. Right?“ He finishes off the bottle into his glass, “Tony! Bring another! Please! Thank you. Right.”

(assuming some conversation, question and getting to the topic of money)

“Right. Right! Sorry I’m not used to doing this last minute deal deal as I said we have had an arrangement for awhile now and they didn’t show. Which ain’t right. Right? So can you get to Osiris in 9 days? If you can then I’m willing to pay you 2000 credits up front and you will get 3000 when you arrive in Osiris. You can wave the Baron’s man on Osiris to check – wouldn’t want you to think I’m not being straight up right? Right? How’s that sound? I can have the casks brought by this evening. Oh! Right! Tickets! I can swing you all tickets to the Baron’s party. That would be amazing right? It's the must-be-at event of the year right? Do the smoozing, networking and connecting for the jobs type of thing that you guys do? Right? Are we on? Deal?”

(Grace can do the math in her head and Tess knows from experience - you can do Osiris in 7 days, less if you go at full burn, but you'd arrive with empty fuel tanks. He's definitely in a jam cause a firefly wouldn't make it at full burn)

“My apologies, I am Jason Siong and you are?”

“Norman. Norman Sellers. That's me. Nice to meet you Jason.” He smiles and introduces himself to each of you.

Jason continued, “What my friend here was trying to say was yes, as a matter of fact you have managed to find the crew of the black ship outside. Yes, she is fast, but as far as how fast that comes down to you sir. Now, if you’d please have a seat I’m sure that we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

Jason returned to his seat, and signaled the barkeep for a small round for Jon, the client and himself, mentally preparing himself for the negotiations ahead and heard as Jon breathed a sigh of relief and pushed his cup of unpalatable swill over towards Ken's side of the table. ”I’ll have to make it up to the rest of the Se Duhng later while we talk this over back at the ship…I know I’ll open one of my private bottles and share,” Jason thought to himself as Mr. Sellers took his seat at the table and then Jon extended a hand and opened negotiations abruptly.

”Jon Brown, I captain that black beauty you were referring to.” Jon introduced himself with a grin, ”You said you were looking for a fast ship, and I assure you whether you'll hauling casks or wine or outrunning a reaver boarding party, there's no ship you want save mine. Now I'm not sure why you need wine moved so fast, and I'm sure you can talk plenty about it, but I always found credits talk all for themselves, so what say we cut to the chase here. You give us a where, when and a price, and we'll get to makin' it happen.”

“Ta Ma Duh, Jon! Let me do the job you hired me for,” Jason thought while keeping his facial expression calm and open.

“Well that I can do and it is good to hear.” Mr. Sellers said while glancing around nervously. He spoke to the barkeep in a familiar manner as he arrived at the table, “Tony, can you get a bottle of the Bin 47 for us? Make it two and put it on my tab. Yeah, thanks.” Sellers glanced around the room once more. “You might as well taste what it is you are hauling right? Right? Or I hope you'll haul. Cause I need someone to haul it. Right?” he says with a broad smile looking at all the people at the table. He stops at the sight of Grace’s sore face. “Whoa. Listen babe, whoever you think I killed, it wasn’t me. I make wine and that’s all. Grape stains only right?” He says with arms stretched out and a humorous grin - a valiant if misguided attempt to be funny.

Jason winced as Sellers addressed Grace directly and thought fervently to himself, “Wong BA Duhn, don’t kill him Grace, he just might be our ticket out of here!”
Tony arrived with two bottles of wine and glasses for all at the table and decanted the wine, pouring a hearty sample for all. Norman takes his glass gives it a slow sniff and then downs his entire glass. “Yeah – that’s a good batch. Anyway…where was I?”

Chuckling to himself over Norm’s attempted humor, Jason inhaled the aroma of the wine as he’d been taught years ago on Persephone. He took a small sip and swirled the wine about to fully cover the pallet allowing the flavor to blossom in his mouth. A look of appreciation and enjoyment appeared on his features. “This is actually quite pleasant Mr. Sellers,” Jason replied wearing a pleasant smile and ready to negotiate. “As to where we were in our conversation…I believe that you were about to tell us about the cargo that you would like moved.” Jason, all confidence and smiles, was thinking about the possibilities of this new contact and the future business Norman might provide. If the job panned out and the crew performed well enough….this might turn into semi regular work and getting paid on a regular basis….that’d be nice too.

“Right. Right. Okay. Right. You see, there is a lord on Osiris, good friend of mine actually. Well more of a business associate. Long time...yes. Baron Otello and I have had an arrangement for years where he throws this really big social event, you know like a gala, and he serves my wine. Cause it is the best in the Verse, that is what he says at least. I think so too but I have to be modest. I mean I spent a long time working out the acidity of the soil versus the natural climate of Greenleaf and how certain fertilizers are best used under the weather system that we have here …”

“Mr. Sellers, pardon the interruption of this fascinating subject, but let me see if I have the facts so far.” Jason spoke with a smile, “The cargo is wine for the Baron Otello’s yearly social and the destination is Osiris. I believe that only leaves the time that the cargo needs to be delivered.”

“Right. Right. So anyway. Right, my usual transport was suppose to be here three days ago and they haven’t shown up.” He looks around the room again as if he expects to see them walking in, “ Not a word, not a wave, nothing, notta, zilch, zippo. Now that ain’t right? Right? Deadlines are important right? And the party is 10 days away right? And well – I need to make other arrangements right? But it is not like freelancers come to Greenleaf. You can’t even stop to refuel unless you have seven levels of clearance and 20K in your petty cash. Right? Right? “ Norn stops to refill his glass and suck it down in a single gulp again. “So I’m thinking that I’m gorram humped when I see that you are here. So this makes things right. Right?“ He finishes off the bottle into his glass, “Tony! Bring another! Please! Thank you. Right.”

“So your normal is three days late? That’s not a good thing. As you pointed out deadlines are important and must be met,” Jason reaffirmed in a more serious tone, “In those circumstances I completely agree that alternative arrangements must be made.” Switching to a more genial manner Jason continued prompting Norman to carry on his tale, “I can see why you thought you were humped. Especially with the party just 10 days away and though I hate to rush a good deal…” Jason trailed off with a chuckle.

Jason, behind his smiles and civility had been watching Mr. Sellers closely trying to decipher his body language as well as the other subtle clues picked up that Norman, though completely out of his element, was on the level. Norman’s little house of cards had just come tumbling down around him. “His system probably made him a ton of dough with what he’s willing to pay us for just one job.” Jason contemplated silently, “ The other crew not showing up…their loss is our gain and we’re damn lucky this dropped in our laps cause we sure could use the job. The upfront cash comes from his lack of experience in dealing not a cover-up. However, he is definitely nervous; you can't fake the light sweat and the fearful eyes. No, Norman isn’t playing us….Time to reel in this fish and it’s going to be a big fat juicy one.”
He continued to watch Norman after shooting a subtle glance at Jon to let him know that he was getting ready to close the deal pending that wave to Osiris.


“Right. Right! Sorry I’m not used to doing this last minute deal deal as I said we have had an arrangement for awhile now and they didn’t show. Which ain’t right. Right? So can you get to Osiris in 9 days? If you can then I’m willing to pay you 2000 credits up front and you will get 3000 when you arrive in Osiris. You can wave the Baron’s man on Osiris to check – wouldn’t want you to think I’m not being straight up right? Right? How’s that sound? I can have the casks brought by this evening. Oh! Right! Tickets! I can swing you all tickets to the Baron’s party. That would be amazing right? It's the must-be-at event of the year right? Do the smoozing, networking and connecting for the jobs type of thing that you guys do? Right? Are we on? Deal?”

“Finally!” Jason thought with an inward smile that managed to warm his expression slightly, “Now we’re talking money and that kind of money more than makes up for the lost wages on this last job.”
“One moment, Mr. Sellers, I believe that we can come to a deal but there are a few things that I’d like to clear up.” Jason spoke with an easy smile as though these details are merely a few trivial things, “What about any taxes or tariffs on the wine? Who is responsible for those?” Jason asked hoping that the answer wouldn’t be them; it’d certainly eat into the profit on this trip. “How many tickets for the party would you provide? Finally, who do we send the wave to so we can make sure you’re being straight up?” This last question, Jason asked attempting to mimic Norman’s style of speech with a smile on his face and a laugh in his voice. “Well Grace, Tess, is Osiris in 9 days possible?” Jason asked the ladies of the crew; they’re the experts in these matters after all.

Norman. Norman Sellers. That's me. Nice to meet you Jason.” introduced the man.

Grace kept her face blank as possible as Jason and Jon started the deal. Mentally Grace was figuring she do a Cortex Search on the Norm. Not much else she could do.

“What my friend here was trying to say was yes, as a matter of fact you have managed to find the crew of the black ship outside. Yes, she is fast, but as far as how fast that comes down to you sir. Now, if you’d please have a seat I’m sure that we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement.” Jason explained. Grace leaned back a little and crossed her arms to get comfortable. She knew her body language wasn't very polite but hopefully the client will keep his attention on Jason.As Mr. Sellers made himself comfortable at the table, Jon extended a hand.

”Jon Brown, I captain that black beauty you were referring to.” Jon introduced himself ”You said you were looking for a fast ship, and I assure you whether you'll hauling casks or wine or outrunning a reaver boarding party, there's no ship you want save mine. Now I'm not sure why you need wine moved so fast, and I'm sure you can talk plenty about it, but I always found credits talk all for themselves, so what say we cut to the chase here. You give us a where, when and a price, and we'll get to makin' it happen.”

“Well that I can do and it is good to hear.” The man looks around nervously and then speaks to the barkeep as he comes up, “Tony, can you get a bottle of the Bin 47 for us? Make it two and put it on my tab. Yeah, thanks.” He looks around the room once more. “You might as well taste what it is you are hauling right? Right? Or I hope you'll haul. Cause I need someone to haul it. Right?” he says with a broad smile looking at all the people at the table. Despite her lack of social skills, Grace knew that most don't address bartenders by name. How often are you here, Norm? Are you the client or the customer? Wondered Grace with a frown. The man notice her frown and then said boldly “Whoa. Listen babe, whoever you think I killed, it wasn’t me. I make wine and that’s all. Grape stains only right?” It took Grace a second to realise he was referring to her and half a second to realise what he had said.

"WHAT did you just call me?" she squeaked as her face went just as red as her hair.Gorram it! I squeaked like a little girl! The guy is dead! thought Grace. Mentally cursing this guy into oblivion, Grace sat up straighter and look the guy directly in the eye.

"Look, Lao Buhn, I am not a babe. Nor do I like being called one. So, Lao Sheong , do yourself a favour and don't call me that. Dohn Luh Mah?" stated Grace who was glaring at Norman. To her credit, she had been respectful and not included swear words.

Tony arrived with two bottles of wine and glasses for all at the table and decanted the wine, pouring a hearty sample for all. Norman took the glassswallowed his entire glass. “Yeah – that’s a good batch. Anyway…where was I?”

Grace was more than a little pissed off and glare at the glass offered to her like it was Da Shiong La Se La Ch'wohn Tian. Since the bottle was in front of her, Grace grabbed it and looked at the label. Ai Yah Tien Ah! 100 credits per bottle? Was there Gold leaf in it or something? Grace vaguely listen to the debates as she did some calculations in her head. If a 750ml bottle is worth 100 credits, that means each ml is worth about 7.5 credits. He wants to take five kegs of this wine that is around 5000L of fine wine. That's a lot of potential money. No wonder he's desperate. That; plus his reputation would be soured a little.
“One moment, Mr. Sellers, I believe that we can come to a deal but there are a few things that I’d like to clear up.” Jason stated, “What about any taxes or tariffs on the wine? Who is responsible for those?” Jason asked.“How many tickets for the party would you provide? Finally, who do we send the wave to so we can make sure you’re being straight up? Well Grace, Tess, is Osiris in 9 days possible?” The last one was directed at Grace and caught her attention.

She thought about and finally said " As long as we don't have any problems, we can make it in about seven days. If we go at full burn, we can make it there even faster but we won't have any fuel left." Hopefully we will get paid unlike last time.

Ken did what he did and scanned the room keeping an eye out for trouble; the negotiations were Jason’s and the Captain’s job and his was security. He took his job seriously; he cared about his crew and his ship and cared for them all. They were his family and though he disagreed with them sometimes and even bickered with some of them that is what family did, wasn’t it?

Hearing the prospective client order wine for ALL of them, Ken brightened up and slide the swill he had been drinking away from him; if he drank much more he would probably be sick. Wine wasn’t his usual forte, he preferred harder stuff usually, but the wine would no doubt be better than the so-called ‘beer’ he could afford here.

Ken sat up in his chair when the man referred to Grace as babe; he knew trouble was coming. He saw Grace, who was on his left side next to him, sit up straight and start to lay into the man. He nonchalantly reached over with his left hand and sat it gently atop her right hand; one to comfort her and let her know that the Big Boss, as she called him, was not worth it and the other reason was to stay her hand from one of her knives which he knew she must be itching to use. After she finished he slowly removed his hand and offered her a smile if she looked at him. She would know that Ken didn’t care about the man, other than a potential client, but he didn’t want Grace to do anything that might get her and therefore all of them into trouble with the local authorities.

When the wine arrived and was poured all around, Ken took his glass and without all the ceremony of Jason with all the sniffing and swirling; he took a good gulp and nodded his approval and then savored the rest of it while he could.

Ken returned to keeping an eye on the place, especially the entrance since this Mr. Sellers seemed to be nervous about someone coming in and discovering them it seemed. He wondered if his story was true; it seemed the man was hiding something; was the product he wanted them to haul stolen? Was he afraid the other crew he had hired might walk in and be upset he was offering it to another crew? Something wasn’t right; he could feel it. He remained alert for trouble; let the others handle the client.

The first time he heard it he hoped he had misheard.
Delivery to Osiris.

Damnit.
The fine, expensive wine remained untouched, as the doctor frowned internally. At least, that's how he would descrbe how he felt at that point.

A quick glance at the captain, as if to remind him of the moratorium he gave a while ago, following problems with the local criminal family.
"...we land on Osiris again, I am NOT leaving the ship, and we are spending as little time there as possible. I got bruised enough this time. Ok?"
"Yeah, yeah, I get it."
Jon seemed to miss the glance entirely, or at least appeared to. So Brian stared into Jason's eyes.

Jason and Brian had spent a lot of time together, despite apparently having little in common, on Destiny, and as such knew each other quite well... or too well, some said.
He gave him one of those looks that had developed during their time playing Belote, an onld, defunkt French card game, together, the sort of look that said a thousand words.

The stare said it all. Osiris? What??

The atmosphere had subtly shifted around the group as Norman Sellers sat down at the table. For the most part it seemed to have picked up in beat at the prospective client. Gracie, on the other hand, was looking mutinously at Mr. Sellers. Or was that Jason she was glaring at?

The captain wasted no time in getting down to business. He never did.
”Jon Brown, I captain that black beauty you were referring to.” Jon said smiling, ”You said you were looking for a fast ship, and I assure you whether you'll hauling casks or wine or outrunning a reaver boarding party, there's no ship you want save mine. Now I'm not sure why you need wine moved so fast, and I'm sure you can talk plenty about it, but I always found credits talk all for themselves, so what say we cut to the chase here. You give us a where, when and a price, and we'll get to makin' it happen.”

Well, that was a least a little better then Ken’s opener.
“Well that I can do and it is good to hear.” Mr. Sellers replied. He looked around the room again with that nervous glance, then spoke to the bartender who was coming up to the table. “Tony, can you get a bottle of the Bin 47 for us? Make it two and put it on my tab. Yeah, thanks.”

Sellers shifted his eyes around the room again. What are you waiting for? Tess casually brushed the side of her gun in a reassuring manner.

“You might as well taste what it is you are hauling right? Right? Or I hope you'll haul. Cause I need someone to haul it. Right?” His face was all smiles as he looked at each of them in turn. Tess mustered what she hoped was a convincing smile, although it might have been more like a grimace. “Whoa. Listen babe, whoever you think I killed, it wasn’t me. I make wine and that’s all. Grape stains only right?” He threw his arms open wide in what supposedly was a nonthreatening manner.

Babe?
It certainly looked like grapes to her, or maybe a little bit more then carelessness with a few bottles. She eyed his mouth to see if it might be permanently stained.

"WHAT did you just call me?" Grace said in a slightly high pitched voice. She was turning red.


"Look, Lao Buhn, I am not a babe. Nor do I like being called one. So, Lao Sheong , do yourself a favour and don't call me that. Dohn Luh Mah?" Grace’s words left no room for argument. Tess had to bite down on her fist to prevent her from laughing out loud.

The bartender arrived not a moment too soon, and Mr. Sellers wasted no time in pouring everyone a sample of his wine. The pilot was happy for an excuse to focus on something tangible. Her mind was still filled with laughter at the thought of Grace being called ‘babe’.

Norman relished in the aroma of the wine and then downs his entire glass. “Yeah – that’s a good batch. Anyway…where was I?”

Jason took a sip of his wine and said, “This is actually quite pleasant Mr. Sellers. As to where we were in our conversation…I believe that you were about to tell us about the cargo that you would like moved.” Jason, all confidence and smiles, was thinking about the possibilities of this new contact and the future business Norman might provide. If the job panned out and the crew performed well enough….this might turn into semi regular work and getting paid on a regular basis….that’d be nice too.

Ken remained quiet while he was drinking his wine. She was mildly surprised that he wasn’t going through it quicker. Deciding that it would be preferable to the rum she was drinking, Tess took a fairly large swallow and immediately regretted it. The wine and rum fought like cowboys and sheep herders. The flavor was pleasant, but she went from mildly intoxicated to drunk and sick to her stomach. She pushed the glass away from her and began to look towards the bartender.

“Right. Right. Okay. Right. You see, there is a lord on Osiris, good friend of mine actually. Well more of a business associate. Long time...yes. Baron Otello and I have had an arrangement for years where he throws this really big social event, you know like a gala, and he serves my wine. Cause it is the best in the Verse, that is what he says at least. I think so too but I have to be modest. I mean I spent a long time working out the acidity of the soil versus the natural climate of Greenleaf and how certain fertilizers are best used under the weather system that we have here …”

Tess got up from the table and walked over to the bar. The room wasn’t spinning yet, but rum and wine continued to do battle in her stomach. “Hey,” she muttered to the bartender, “could I get a glass of water please?” The talk at the table turned into a mix of Jason’s smooth talking and Mr. Seller’s continued babble. She began fighting the urge to puke right here at the counter when Tony slide her a glass of water. Sipping it gingerly, she made her way back to the table.

Jason was speaking directly to the client when she began to sit down, “One moment, Mr. Sellers, I believe that we can come to a deal but there are a few things that I’d like to clear up.” He wore an easy smile as he drilled Sellers, “What about any taxes or tariffs on the wine? Who is responsible for those?” Jason asked hoping that the answer wouldn’t be them; it’d certainly eat into the profit on this trip. “How many tickets for the party would you provide? Finally, who do we send the wave to so we can make sure you’re being straight up?”

Straight up? What?
“Well Grace, Tess, is Osiris in 9 days possible?”

Gracie spoke up first. Tess felt like she would have had an answer quicker, but the alcohol combination was doing funny things to her math. “As long as we don't have any problems, we can make it in about seven days. If we go at full burn, we can make it there even faster but we won't have any fuel left."

“I’d hate to go full burn,” Tess replied before she took another sip of water. Ugh, this isn’t helping either. “It always makes me nervous running Yuan Fen empty. Of course, with the proper incentives we could have her go full tilt boogey, but Gracie’s right. She’ll make Osiris in about seven days, provided we don’t have any trouble along the way.”

Did that come out right? she wondered to herself. Her face turned a delicate shade of red and she took another drink of her water.