Shuffling the Deck

[Marcus O'Terra]

Bellforge
July 9, 2517 - Beaumonde
3:26 P.M Local Time
9:47 AM A.S.T

Marcus smiled as the atmosphere rolled across the bridge of The Chainless. It had been several weeks since they'd handed off the datastick to Dare. The few days on Persephone had been uneventful for Marcus.

The journey through the Black had been likewise; a few conversations, maintenance, no arguments beyond what was on the news.

His missive to Longstreet's compound had been given a simple 'Received, Landing Granted' in response. Not much but it was something.

The descent continued without any real problems. Lights blinked, but they were only indications of altitude, speed, gravity, etc.

Hawkeye and Marcus were both on the Bridge, a ship that big, it didn't hurt to have two pilots to watch all the blinking lights.

As they entered full atmo, they leveled out and began their approach on Longstreet's compound.

[Marcus O'Terra]

Hawkeye

It had been over 25 days since Hawkeye had last set his eyes on Beumonde, but the old rock still looked the same. Those 25 days had been pretty much boring with only a few good moments, and in fact Hawk hadn't even participated in half of them, as a pilot he'd been stuck on board for the job, and since they'd left their small crew of 4 had grown by 3, and then it had shrunk to 5 when two had jumped ship, but now they were returning to Longstreet's Complex, and all Hawkeye could think is why, he was sure it had to do with the call from Morse, but beside's that he was clueless. 

Hawkeye and Marcus worked in conjunction to get the ship leveled out as it entered Atmo, it was times like this that Hawkeye didn't mind sharing his bridge with the captain, one could never be too careful on re-entry.

"Hello this is your Pilot speakin' I'd just like to inform you that we have entered Atmo, and are approaching now."

[Jay Fuller]

Jay had been sitting in his room for the past couple hours. His original intent was to do a little writing, but it had decreased into meaningless scribbling in one of his various notebooks. When he heard the announcement over the comm, he sat bold upright in his bed. "Finally!" he cried. He jumped out of his room and made his way up to the Bridge.

When he got there, it was just Marcus and Hawk in there. Jay looked out to the planet below and grinned. "Gǎnxiè tā mā de shén!" he said, "About time we get on some land! I've been getting major cabin fever for a week now."

[Ilana Logan]

Ilana was sitting on a small wooden crate in the engine room reading the screen on her databook, Anna Karinina, when Hawkeye came over the intercom announcing their decent through atmo.  "Thanks for that, I never woulda guessed.  I thought we were having an earthquake."  Ilana said sarcastically.

She wasn't angry with Hawkeye, or anyone else for that matter.  She wasn't really angry at all, she was actually in a great mood, sarcasm was just Ilana.  

She lifted a small glass from the floor beside the crate she was sitting on and ice clinked against the sides, almost sounding like the clinking of glasses for a toast.  She took a swig, grimaced, and placed it back on the floor.  "Where in the hell did all this happy come from?  You'd think someone doped my drink."

That thought disturbed her more than she wanted to think about.  She looked at her glass, then at the bottle it had been poured from, then back to the glass.  She picked it up again and smelled it, but all she smelled was whiskey.  

She went back to reading her book, shaking her head at herself, the amazing voicer of the obvious that was their pilot, and her own wild imagination.  The ship continued to shake gently, as ships always did when going through atmo, and  she went back to being oblivious to it, as she almost always was, waiting for the bird to land.

[Marcus O'Terra]

Marcus rolled his eyes at Hawkeye's statement of the obvious. "This aint no pleasure cruise and we're hauling nobody but our own. Save the 'Pilot speaking' lines for when we've got fares... if we take fares. And if we take fares, we've got bigger things to worry about."

He pressed the keys on the comm panel, but channel Longstreet's pads squawked on still was saying the sky, and ground, was clear. From where he was sitting that was certainly the case.

They pulled back on their throttle and brought the nacelle engines to rotate where their thrust was keeping the ship aloft, and mostly stationary.

He began to diminish the thrust, slowly, extending the gear. He pressed the open comm button for a ship-wide PA. "Landing now. Mind your heads, hands, feet and other sensitive bits." Landing an Aardvark was tricky, same with any heavy ship. You couldn't go to slow you were likely to burn excess fuel. (Nothing burnt fuel like a ship floating on a planet); so you had to shave the thrust off bit by bit. Otherwise you'd come down too hard and stress the landing gears.

That was a damn expensive mistake to make.  If you made it.

The Chainless landed on the largest pad in Longstreet's compound with a loud but 'gentle' thud. Not a crash. Another successful landing. Marcus was elated, and as he exhaled he laughed a little. He loved piloting. Honestly if he could do nothing but fly ships he'd be a happier man. He envied Hawkeye for that.

Just for that.

The comm channel was still on and he spoke up toward the mic. "Folks, we've made our landing. Do your checks, pick up your laundry, and let's hope this landfall lasts a bit."

[Ilana Logan]

Amelia


Amelia lay in her bed, she was bored ever since Guy had left Amelia had, had nothing to do, she hadn't even gotten off at Persephone, last time she had been there she had pissed off the wrong crimminal, and she hadn't fealt safe stepping planetside, so Amelia was more than bored, the rest of the crew were no fun, and she could only annoy Hawkeye for so long, so Amelia was quite happy when Hawkeye's annoying voice came in over the intercom. Amelia remembered when she had served under Theodore Aspen, he'd always made stupid comments like that back then too.

Amelia began to pack her stuff up, she wasn't sure how long they were going to be planetside, but Amelia needed to get of this ship, she missed land, and she missed the company of a good man, so when the ship was rocked by the usual thud, followed shortly by the sound of the Captain's voice, they were here. Amelia jauntily skipped out of her room, and headed to the engine room, there was Ilana, Amelia didn't know the girl, but she hoped that she would get the chance, afterall Ilana was the only female company Amelia figured she'd have for a while. "Hey Ilana, ready to head out, I've never been to Beaumonde what's it like?"

[Bishop Morse]

Longstreet


The afternoon was a very comfortable one. Outside the weather was rather nice for that time of year, and there was a light breeze going through. It was a typical sort of day on the compound however. Several craft had been through it over the course of the day, so it wasn’t one of the busiest. However this was just a moment when most shipping craft were out in space. Then soon there may well be a day when they were pulling in a very large amount and the pad had to remain reserved for only craft that were going to be landing to move cargo. This was not that day, but it wasn’t an uncommon one. Off at the warehouses some men were at work, organizing items, and salvaging old ones to be sold off again. The business one that had been perfected over a number of years and worked as fine as a lamp factory.

Longstreet got up from his desk, and set his pen down. The two screens on it closed down into it, and were ceiled over to now present it as though there was only a large desk. He stood up and put his coat on. He reached the door and opened it, and closed it behind him. He walked down the stairs at an eased pace. Longstreet came to the turn on them, and went right. He continued his way down the steps, passing the well decorated walls as he did till he got to the ground floor. Looking forward he saw a man in a dark coat with a blonde mullet leaning against a wall near the door, very close to the lounge and parlor.

”Heading out to greet our guests?” Longstreet asked as he moved out towards the door. He stopped a moment to adjust something within his coat near his waste. But only after that he continued to walk to the door. Moments earlier they could hear the sound of that came like a rumble of pressure. It was unmistakably the sound of a ship landing, as it happened there somewhat frequently. It wasn’t loud, and didn’t make the building shake, but it was a sound you could recognize. 

[Bishop Morse]

Morse got up from his chair when he heard the low rumbling tone throughout the room. In the parlor he’d remained off at the back working on a data pad. In it he was working out a few things that he might need to plan for. The data pad was small, and fit in his hand. It was good for an organized tracking of information. When he heard the tone, he switched the device off and placed it in his pocket. He stretched his back as he got up. In the room, which was just off to the side of the entry way into the building, there were a number of items of comfort. In there were two others that Morse knew, but he didn’t bother saying anything when he got up. He stepped outside of the room and out the door. He moved left and came to lean on the wall just beyond it. Morse was aware of what was to come, he knew Longstreet was going to be coming down. So he waited for him there.

It wasn’t long before he could hear the heavy door up the stairs open and then close, followed closely by the sound of shoes hitting the wooden steps. He looked up and waited until he saw the figure of an aged man coming down. He wore an outfit that was very similar to Morse’s, the difference being just what was underneath the coat. As he came down, Morse decided to wait for him to say the first thing. They both saw each other so it was just a matter of who would speak first. It wasn’t but a few seconds and Longstreet spoke.

”Course I am.” Morse responded. ”It aint your damn secretary.” Morse announced. ”If I made the call to em, then I’ll be here when they get here.” Morse moved over towards the door and opened it. It slid open quickly and smoothly into the wall making it seem as though there was no door there at all. He stepped outside. Once there he left it open for Longstreet to step outside as well. Before them was something new. An immense red vessel settled in on the large central pad just in front of the building. Morse hadn’t ever seen the ship on the ground from this vantage point, and was a bit taken aback by the sheer size of it. ”Steve sure had a big ship.” Morse said aloud. ”’…had” He repeated in a mocking tone in reference to the fact that it was far from Steve’s vessel at this point.

[Marcus O'Terra]

Marcus got up and walked through the ship. He loved being on a big ship. The crafts he'd been on during the war had all been so cramped. Maybe that had been the combat plating they put into the hull, maybe it had been the atmosphere of defeat, or maybe it had been the bodies they hauled to back from the front.

Still this wasn't then or there. This was his ship.

HIS ship.

His ship, owned by Longstreet. Given to him by Morse.

His fly high was ebbing quick. He reached the cargo bay, pressing the buttons to open the cargo bay doors. They extended to rest on the ground and the man exited, smiling into the sun and the wind as he inhaled the fresh air.

[Bishop Morse]

Longstreet


Longstreet stepped outside just behind Morse. The air outside was rather cool, which was very welcome since they had been suffering from rather hot weather for the last several days. Reports of the weather suggested that it was going to be like that for the next few days which was good news, at least for those that had intentions of spending a lot of time outside. The weather was never much of a concern for Longstreet though. He’d come from a world where it got extremely cold in the winter time, and then unbearably humid and hot during the summer. The only real moment where one would find peace was in the spring time. Here however, it wasn’t like that. The weather tended to be a bit more sporadic and could vary through a number of different types throughout a single week. In spite of that, it never snowed there, though it had hailed before. 

In front of him was a massive craft, and one that he knew well. Longstreet knew about a great number of vessels, though perhaps not as well as more technical minded people. His main reason for knowing them was just in their sheer value as a workhorse. He had never spent much time on ships, or at least not ones as small as that. During the war, whenever he travelled from one world to the other, he generally moved in a larger battleship or something that was sturdier. Speed was easily sacrificed if it meant safety, and Longstreet went with that well. However he did spend most of the time on worlds so that didn’t weigh much in his head. This vessel however was owned by him, and that was part of why he knew it so well.

He looked forward at it, up towards it’s bridge, and down towards it’s bottom. The craft was several hundred feet long, and took up just about every bit of the pad it sat on. Longstreet waited for whoever would be the first off as the ramp came down. To no surprise the first appear was the vessels current commander. Longstreet began walking forward to receive him.

”I trust you had a productive first voyage.” Longstreet said as he walked over towards him. Morse was likely following suit. He however wasn’t finished. ”I know you just arrived, but unfortunately I have to leave to feed the dogs.” Longstreet spoke with a seriousness that he always did, his deep tone carrying well. ”I’ll be leaving you in the capable hands of Morse here.” Longstreet announced nodding at Morse who was standing to his right. It was unfortunate timing that the vessel had landed at that moment when Longstreet was to be leaving the outpost, but it wouldn’t be a terrible problem.

[Bishop Morse]

Morse followed behind Longstreet as he began to walk towards the ship. The ramp on the vessel was about the same size as the rear ramp on theLogan, which was somewhat intimidating based on the fact that the rear ramp took up the entire back portion of the ship itself. But in spite of this Morse found it to mean that the ship was built well. If he remembered right the Aardvark-3 was a newer sort of craft then his was. Of course it was the third line of it’s class, where the Mantis T-5 was an augmentation of the first, but still vessels age didn’t always mean much. Its price tag was typically reflected on capability, rather then youth. 

Morse looked over the first person he saw who was coming off the vessel, who was coincidentally the last person who was on it he had spoken to. Marcus seemed to be taking in the environment with a sort of enjoyment. Morse knew the feeling of being on a vessel and having the wind hit your face for the first time in two weeks. But he’d been living on ships for a decade so he was long since used to it. Marcus and his people were lucky that they’d come on the day they did, since they got to avoid the pressing heat which was uncomfortable for many of the people on Bellforge. He stopped when Longstreet stopped, and as Longstreet had already been talking, he decided to wait.

When Morse was volunteered to handle their arrival, he didn’t find it as a problem. As far as he was concerned his problems with Marcus at this point were a non issue. Marcus had tried to take over his vessel, likely kill him, and Morse had handed him over to the Alliance, from which he had managed to escape. From how he saw it, it was an even trade, and neither of them had really lost anything over it. If anything it may have been beneficial to both, since Morse got easy cash, and Marcus’ position had been improved with Longstreet because of Morse. ”Oh fun.” Morse said, with his snide smile rippling across his face. He turned and looked over at Longstreet. They were roughly the same height so neither of them seemed to hold an advantage over the other. ”By the way, I’m fuelling up my car on your spigot. Hope that aint a problem.” Morse said in his general arrogance. It didn’t matter to him even if Longstreet said no about it, he’d still do it.

[Bishop Morse]

Longstreet


Longstreet’s head turned towards Morse, but didn’t look at him. His ear was towards him yes, but he looked towards the ground, and then up towards the warehouses off at the side of the outpost. Of course Morse had to thrown in his extra little portion. If Longstreet was going to have him do something, then in his former subordinates mind it was very important to make sure he got something in return. Granted he was already in the process of doing what he was trading with, without asking, and no doubt would have gone threw without saying anything about it otherwise. But Longstreet accepted this, and it didn’t matter much to him. He was far from being impoverished, and his wealth was such that it was rivaling that of many of the corporate owners in the area. Of course Longstreet owned his enterprise and had built it up over the years. The fruits of hard work and dedication were mass amounts of expendable resources. 

”Of course you are.” Longstreet said to him. ”You take my bullets, why should my fuel for your vehicles be any different.” Longstreet spoke with a very flat tone. He didn’t care, but it came in with an attitude that he would be more satisfied if it wasn’t that way. Longstreet didn’t like spending money he didn’t have to, and he tended to stockpile. So when the resources went down, he’d have to replace it so that he could maintain a surplus. 

He looked back over towards Marcus, and sized him up again. Longstreet did this with everyone, analyzing the type of person they were. He’d never fully have an accurate idea of what they were, he did it with Morse on a regular basis, and he knew Morse did it in return. It was good to keep a fluid impression of someone, that way you didn’t weigh them down with too many bad things. He then looked back over towards Morse. ”Take them around, show them the sights.” Longstreet told Morse. ”I doubt they’ve been around the city very much.” He said. He remembered that some of Marcus’ people used to work on at the outpost, but it was unlikely they went around and took in much of the expansive place that was Bellforge, and didn’t know as much of it as Morse did. 

As he finished Longstreet began heading off towards the other end of the building he’d come from. There were several vehicles parked far off that one could see. They were varying in quality, though some were very nice and fancy looking. He straightened his coat as he walked and continued away. 

[Bishop Morse]

Putting his right hand in his pocket, Morse listened to Longstreet give his response to what Morse had just told him. He knew that he was prodding at Longstreet with the thought. It wouldn’t have bothered Longstreet to not have heard about what he was doing, so telling him was just to get a rise out of him. But Morse was an instigator and liked to get a rise out of people. He did it on a regular basis to just about everyone. He decided to leave it where it was since Longstreet’s response was satisfying enough.

When the idea of taking them around the city came up Morse wasn’t sure what to do. He gave a short laugh. ”I’ll go show em Huángjīn Yǎn Tower” Morse said referring to one of the tallest and more famous buildings in the city. Morse was not a native to Bellforge, but Beaumonde was his homeworld and he shared a great amount of it’s culture. He had spent a lot of time in the city, so he was very familiar with it, and knew a lot of people there. He liked being at home, or at least on his homeworld, because rather then having to live like many that were similar to him, he had a constant thought of safety in his head.

As Longstreet walked off, Morse looked back over towards Marcus. He felt a bit of a tug in his stomach, and he knew exactly what it was. It was followed by a bit of a rumble that only he could feel. The lack of taste in his mouth made him know what he wanted. ”You and yer people hungry?”Morse asked. ”I am.” He continued. ”Wanna go grab some good munch. I’ll buy and fly” Morse offered. It wasn’t the most common of moments when Morse offered to do something like that, but at the moment he felt that it was a mutually beneficial thing.

[Marcus O'Terra]

Marcus was surprised to see Longstreet, himself, out to greet them; more so to see Morse in the flesh once again. Still it'd been more than a week since their chat. Time dragged for some, flew for others.

He was enjoying the feeling of fresh air more than focusing on Longstreet's conversation. He parsed to important bits. Longstreet kept 'dogs'. Morse was their escort. Sightseeing and dinner were imminent. That last part hooked at him kind of funny. Morse, treating him and his?

Odd. But if it meant food and conversation, who was he to complain.

He had his pants, and his gun. 

He'd nodded at Longstreet's assessment of their success. Most likely he knew, through a grape vine or a spider's line, of the job they'd pulled. Longstreet seemed the sort to keep eyes on his assets. This ship certainly was his.

He nodded at Morse, but looked over his shoulder. "Well I need to see if the lot of them have plans. Hold up."

He walked up to the control that worked the airlocks and pressed the intercomm to PA. "Folks, good news! Captain Morse has offered us dinner and a tour of the city. Folks looking to join in, best hustle to the hold."

He closed the channel and walked back down, smirking.

[Jay Fuller]

Once the ship landed, Jay was right behind Marcus. A ridiculous grin was plastered on his face as he walked outside. Once the ramp was down, he stepped into the ground and inhaled deeply.

"Nice," he mumbled. He walked around a little bit. He didn't pay much attention to Longstreet or Morse. He had delved off in his own mind for a moment. At least, until Morse mentioned food. Jay perked up. "Food sounds great. I'm starving."

[Bishop Morse]

Morse watched Marcus back up towards the entrance of his ship. As he turned around, Morse noticed one of Marcus’ people suddenly come to a higher state of alertness at the mention of food. That sort of thing was always something that got people interested, especially when it was people that spent a long time on a space voyage. In general the food on a ship wasn’t very good, depending on how well it was kept stocked. But for cost purposes they typically didn’t go out of their way to get more then what they absolutely needed. ”Course it does.” Morse responding in regards to food sounding good. Food probably sounded especially good when it came to the thought of them not having to pay for it. He wasn’t sure how much exactly they’d racked in off of whatever they did, but individuals rarely wanted to go out of their way to hand over cash.

He looked over towards the cargo bay and could clearly here the intercom from within the ship where he was. Whether it had been a total and exterior sound, he was close enough to the front of the cargo bay that he could hear the agreement to the proposal. More then likely he’d have to wait for the rest of them to pour out. But what stung in his ear the most was calling him by rank. Not only had Morse not liked being called that before, but now it no longer applied to him. When Marcus was just finishing Morse put his finger to his right ear. ”Ray.” He said aloud, now looking to the right where the warehouses were. ”we’re grabbing food with the stow away and his people. Probably Sing’s” Morse said it not as much like an offer or a question. He knew that if he was grabbing food then Ray would probably come along, especially if it was to Sing’s place. 

Putting his arm back at his side and then into the pocket he saw Marcus returning to him. He didn’t have any point in holding this bit of information in, and before it became a problem he thought it was best to mention it. ”It aint captain anymore.” Morse announced. Even though he knew he’d told Marcus, and many others, not to call him that even when he was, this time he had a stronger reason. He never liked the title as it was, but now there was no need to call him it anymore. ”Sold the ship.” As he said it, he still maintained his smug satisfaction with just about everything he did. He wasn’t bitter about it even the slightest, and that much was clear with how he said it.

[Ray Hudson]

'What will you do now?'

That's what his Brother had asked him. For years Ray had wondered if he ever had an option. If he had any talent that he just never discovered, something that would help him get through life. But he always came up with nothing. He was a germ doing minor damage to the universe. It didn't matter how much he wanted to stop, he just didn't see it as an option. There wasn't enough money to retire and he knew he couldn't work the nine to five. Ray was fired by a close friend from the last 'normal' job he had, which left his confidence slightly weakened. The experience taught him that he lacked the skills and the attitude to maintain a steady job.

Ray had been registered as homeless since the end of the war, and with the Logan sold it had become the truth. Realizing this, Ray felt pressured and it made him sweat. Morse showed no signs of worry or even a sense of loss. Looking at his smug face didn't usually offend Ray but he found himself clenching his fists whenever he glanced at him.

Ray only saw himself having two options. He could stay with Morse and see what happens or he could leave to live with his friends on Tilottama. They were in a similar line of work but they were much smaller in comparison. Working for them would mean smaller paychecks but less danger. Ray had pulled a few jobs with them in the past and only one had ended in disaster so he had a pretty good record going. They were talking about going clean and opening up their own business. They told Ray that when they finally go clean, they'll call him with an offer, a thought that greatly appealed to him. His friends on Tilottama, Jordan, Amy and Franco, they were trustworthy and loyal. They considered Ray family and would take him in in a heartbeat. Moving Tilottama would provide more comfort and stability. Staying on one moon, coming home every night and enjoying the freedom that land brings. But Ray wouldn't allow himself. As much as he would love to go stay with them he just couldn't take that much change at once. His home was now sold to a man he despises and he was having trouble accepting that it was gone. Ray began to created excuses for himself, thinking his pride would forbid him from asking them for help but it was just his sense of uncertainty. He was afraid to restart his life.

So Ray stuck with Morse, waiting until he was able to move on.

He now sat in a room in Longstreet's compound. He was sitting on a couch next to Carl, watching the large vid screen in the room. A program was on discussing agricultural beginnings on newly terraformed worlds. It was extremely boring and uninteresting to Ray but he wasn't about to ask Carl to change it. Carl was a large and intimidating man who made Ray consider thinking before speaking. Ray's clothes were clean, a black shirt with the words IP Productions in distressed letterings on the chest and a black hoodie with a cartoon penguin on the back and the letters IP on the upper right chest. Ray's face was a contrast to the cleanliness of the clothes. There were bags under his eyes and he had a bit of stubble growing. His eyes were those of a tired man. The two of them sat in silence until Morse's voice came into Ray's com. Morse informed him that they were going to eat with the scruffy short man and his 'crew'. Ray put a finger on his left ear. "Alright, I'll be right out." he said. He nodded at Carl and made his way outside.

Once he was outside he saw the Morse, the scruffy man and the kid that was on the Logan a month ago. Ray didn't particularly like the scruffy, tired looking man. He didn't see the potential that Morse and Longstreet saw in him. He just saw another scumbag mercenary who would transfer orphans to a pedophile if a crime boss told him to.

"Hey buddy." Ray said to the short leader, a small smile on his face.

[Ilana Logan]

The ship jostled only a little as it touched down and settled on the landing gear.  Ilana turned her databook off and stood up.  She set her databook on the crate she had been sitting on and stretched her back out.  She was walking toward the door to leave when Amelia sauntered in.  Amelia never just walked, never, she always sauntered, displaying herself for everyone to drink in.  Honestly, even a woman couldn't help but taking a second glance at Amelia; she was a striking woman.

"Hey Ilana, ready to head out, I've never been to Beaumonde what's it like?" Amelia asked.

"Bein' honest, I don't know.  I came here for work around a month and a half ago, but I only left the compound once.  Some problem down the road, and where we were, even if seein' the sights had been on my mind, it wasn't really an option.  With any luck, we'll actually get to see the sights this time.  Maybe you can show me how to pick up a man,"  Ilana said, grinning.

Damned if she wasn't in a great mood.  She still didn't know where it came from, but she was gonna try to hold on to it as long as possible.

Note to self:  Ask Fuller if he spiked my whiskey, she thought.

She picked her satchel off the floor from beside the crate, the one with her revolver ammo in it, and shoved her databook inside.  She had left the rifle locked up in her bunk.  She didn't want to go get it and she figured if she needed the rifle on top of the revolver, they were probably all in some deep shit.  She slung the satchel onto her shoulder and said "Let's get out of here."

[Ilana Logan]

Amelia


Amelia was glad to see Ilana was in a good mood, she hadn't really talked to the woman, when she had first met the woman she had seemed to have a stick up her ass, which had made it even more funny that she had issues with Hawkeye, which was one of her best characteristics, besides her rugged good looks, Ilana wasn't bad looking she just was often dressed for work not play, as opposed to Amelia, who's work was play, even during the war Amelia had found a way to stand out in uniform as sexy. Today Amelia was in black leggings, gladiator sandals, her usual black earrings, a chunky bracelet, a pale blue top, the top hung off one shoulder displaying her black bra below, there was no sleeve on this side, while the other side clung to her shoulder and had a long sleeve, and of course her Greenleaf pin, like Hawkeye she never went anywhere without it. The only thing that looked out of place on Amelia was her black ruck sack, but she needed so she'd brought it. Amelia put on the biggest smile when Ilana talked about picking up guys, Amelia had always secretly thought Ilana could have been a lesbian, "Picking up men is my speciality, I'm sure I can help you, and we seem to be in a big city so I'm sure there will be plenty of men to pick from."

Amelia Followed Ilana out of the engine room, and head to the cargo bay, Amelia tightened the straps on her thigh sheath for her knife, Amelia never went anywhere unarmed, she always carried at least two knives, and of course she was quite skilled in martial arts as well, so she was never defenseless, what Amelia never carried was a gun, she did't like guns all too much. 

As Amelia set foot on the planet she saw that the majority of the crew was present, as well as two other men, neither of which tickled her fancy. The group was discussing food, and a tour it sounded like to Amelia, both sounded wonderful, and then later maybe, she and Ilana would get gussied up and visit some local bars. "I'm famished, and I'd love to see the place, I'm Amelia by the way." Amelia walked over to the two men with a smile and curtseyed, just because she didn't fancy them didn't mean she wouldn't play the game all the same. 

[Marcus O'Terra]

Hawkeye

Hawkeye finished his systems checks, finished shutting the ship down and then he headed to his room. Hawkeye grabbed anything he'd need, he wasn't sure whether they would be sleeping on board tonight or not, he sure as hell hoped not, Hawkeye also hoped this wasn't the end, he hoped that he'd have more adventures on the Chainless, but Hawkeye didn't know whether Longstreet was going to reclaim his ship now, Hawkeye didn't want to go back to his od shuttle, in the same old boring outpost. 

As Hawkeye walked through the ship to the cargo bay, he didn't see a single person, along the way, so he could assume they had all left. Hawkeye walked out of the ship to see the whole crew gathered with Morse and Ray, it was good to see a familiar face, but he couldn't see the Logan anywhere. "Hey Morse, Ray haven't see you guys in a while, what happened to the Logan."