|
Post by Marcus O'Terra on Jun 21, 2012 19:40:32 GMT -5
Call from Chainless to the Morse Residence October 9, 2517 11:36 A.M Local Time - Sihnon - (Last Place Docked)
The message screen displayed 'Incoming Message from: "Ray and the Runt's Ship"'
When it opened, Marcus could be seen sitting at on the bridge, a bead of sweat on his face. He looked calm though, focused. There was a mad sort of glimmer in his eye.
|
|
|
Post by Jacky Morse on Jun 22, 2012 1:32:13 GMT -5
Hearing the call that was coming through the cortex, Jacky had gotten up and moved over towards the terminal in the living room. It was a short walk, and she sat down in the chair that was in front of the table the terminal was on. It was placed by a wall where the connection ran through. There were several other terminals in the house, but this one had been the closest. It didn’t have the same preference settings as her personal terminal in her room which had her rabbit ‘assistant’ that was always on the screen.
When she sat down she looked to see who the call was coming from. The listing was from Ray and “The runts ship”. She recalled that after her father had sold his ship, Ray remained as a crewmen of a transport vessel that had more or less taken the place of his own for services to Mr. Longstreet. As not too long before she assumed that the call was Ray, and activated it.
To her surprise it was someone she had never seen before. He was had somewhat wild hair, and a serious expression on his face. But the call had come from the same listing and she didn’t know it was.
Regardless she’d answered calls like everyone else her whole life. ”Hello.” She said with a smile. ”Morse residence.” Unlike her father, Jacky was very polite and always friendly. So rather then answering calls with her fathers usual “Yeah”, she gave the full introduction.
|
|
|
Post by Marcus O'Terra on Jun 22, 2012 10:02:36 GMT -5
Marcus had whole expected to be talking to Morse immediatly. Then he remembered the man had a family, and that was no falsehood; apparently. Marcus filed it away and relaxed his face a bit.
"Good day." Marcus's voice sounded more stressed then he thought he felt. He paused, "Is Morse... Bishop Morse around? This is Marcus." Marcus had been taken off balance by talking to this girl, this friendly girl. Still he hoped Morse was in, this would be embarrassing otherwise.
|
|
|
Post by Jacky Morse on Jun 22, 2012 10:59:26 GMT -5
She’d known the moment she picked up the call that she’d probably have to go get her father, and so Jacky had already begun to turn around in the chair. ”Yes he’s here.” She said in a pleasant reply. ”Hold on a moment.” She turned around and stood up from the chair. She took a few steps and called out.
”Bà” She said in a tone that was audible, but not overbearingly loud. Directly after that there was a reply that came from a somewhat familiar tone. “Shì ma?” It said.
”You have a call.” She continued as she walked further back into the room. It looked very nice. Everything was in order and there wasn’t any clutter around. There was just some furniture and a passageway to another room at the right.
“Who is it?” The voice called back.
Jackie moved back practically out of range of the camera, as she was all the way at the other end of the room. ”It’s a Marcus, from the “runts ship”. She said, giving all the details that she knew at the time.
|
|
|
Post by Morse on Jun 22, 2012 11:00:35 GMT -5
Morse had gotten up when he heard there was a call for him. The closest terminal to him was the one in the living room, and so he started his way there. When Jacky first mentioned that the call was from Marcus, his first thought was, Who? It was only a millisecond later he recalled who it was. He didn’t know many people named Marcus, and this one he didn’t talk to very frequently, so he was a bit confused by the call. Especially since he didn’t know that Marcus knew how to get a hold of him.
He came around the corner and stepped around Jacky. He was about a foot taller then her, and he was still wearing the exact same sort of clothing he wore one the Logan. The only difference being his coat wasn’t on. The black T-shirt and pants were identical, but there was no weapon visible on him.
Morse could see Marcus on the screen and held a bit of confusion, since he didn’t expect to hear from him, ever. But it wasn’t as though he wasn’t prepared to talk, since he had a social mind.
”O’Terra of the Chainless” Morse started reciting it like a crier announcing a Lord. He came up to the chair and sat down. ”How the hell did you get this number?” Morse asked openly confused. They hadn’t moved into that house very long ago, and he only got around to putting them in the local listing a week earlier. Other people had been able to call him for longer then that, but he hadn’t felt like doing the “official placement” until the last minute.
|
|
|
Post by Marcus O'Terra on Jun 22, 2012 18:29:20 GMT -5
Marcus gave a polite nod as the girl called Morse to the phone. It was odd thinking of him having another name. He didn't linger on it, as the man himself came into view. He wasted no time and asked how he'd gotten the number.
"Ray must have called you, it's in the logs." He wasn't sure how much the Feds really monitored communications, and how much was just paranoia. " I need some help, or advice at the very least. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Prolly a punch to head to, 'm sure Ray'd happily oblige at that."
He looked Morse in the eye as best one could through comms. His face looked beat but his eyes still weren't dead yet. There was a way out, a way though. Morse would know.
|
|
|
Post by Morse on Jun 22, 2012 21:57:51 GMT -5
”That he did.” Morse nodded when Marcus managed to find a reasonable answer. Of course anything that he came up with would have been reasonable as it managed to work, but still Morse was curious. ”Was a surprising thing, since I’ve only been in this house for about a month and I get a call from someone I’ve known more or less in passing.”
In theory it was much more then that, but Morse was prone to diminishing things. He didn’t care at all about how long it had been. But he was on the screen none the less. Morse, being the talkative person that he was, didn’t really feel any concern as to who it was that was calling. He didn’t have anything that he needed doing, and it was the middle of the afternoon.
When Marcus got to his reason for calling Morse wasn’t sure how to take it. He hadn’t expected anyone to be needing his advice for anything. He had given Scruggs a recommendation a month earlier, but other then that nothing. But since he was asked he would give it, not without the usual pain however.
Working his tongue around the bottom of his upper left teeth Morse leaned back in his chair. ”And what sort of help and or advice do you need?” He imagined it was something serious, but he didn’t have any idea what it could be. It was a guess, but he doubted Marcus had many friends, and Morse could probably be considered on his short list of people to ask. Still he refrained from voicing his assumption as he waited.
|
|
|
Post by Marcus O'Terra on Jun 22, 2012 22:42:18 GMT -5
Marcus was relieved when Morse found the reason acceptable. Marcus didn't have a wide window to operate in, and even as the ship was ready to go; rushing out would be a bad move on top of a set of vary bad moves.
He knew Morse was the sort to keep things under wraps, and he figured being to the point would be the best idea. "I need my ship erased from security here on Sihnon. We were never here." He wasn't sure how much detail Morse wanted, or cared for. "Certainly didn't get any visitor showing us features of this ship we didn't know about." He was finding a center, but it wasn't in a good place.
He took a breath and let it out slowly. "Any idea how that sort of miracle could get done?"
|
|
|
Post by Morse on Jun 23, 2012 0:51:28 GMT -5
Marcus had started slapping out information very quickly. It was a bit difficult for Morse to keep up with it as he was just wondering exactly what was going on. As it was explained to him Morse easily gathered that there was a story behind it. Sihnon and a desperate need to disappear from it. That didn’t seem like a very basic request. And as it all came through, Morse got his arrogant smile on his face.
”I might.” He replied. But Morse never did anything without knowing as much about it as he possibly could. He dug for information like he was digging for diamonds. And he’d find them, he always did. This wasn’t just same borrowing of money or finding the nearest fueling station, this was far more specific then that.
Morse twisted in the chair and his left index finger moved to his chin. ”Now… what exactly leads someone to need so many things to go away?” Morse asked. ”It’s not exactly a circumstance I could say I’m personally familiar with.” He concluded with his teeth showing through his obvious amusement with the whole thing.
|
|
|
Post by Marcus O'Terra on Jun 23, 2012 9:23:38 GMT -5
Marcus could tell that Morse wanted the whole story, and at this point Marcus wasn't going to waste any more time beating around the bush. He leaned forward and put his arms on console.
"I come back from a job interview, Above the board slaver busting, and there's a fed in the cargo bay. One fed. He's talking shit and holding this scanner. Okay we're in bad way. Ray's got some demo charges he likely shouldn't have, but that's a loss we can talk out of." He exhaled. "Turns out there's this little hold that none of us knew about. And the previous owners stashed ...40 50 thousand in credits and about the weight of that in Beumonde Bonanza or what ever that crap was." He exhales. "So I stun the Fed in the face, now Ray is locking him up and Jays putting him under till I sort out how to deal with him."
He wasn't on the Federal shit list anymore, so maybe this conversation would go unwarranted. Plus he recalled Morse the sort to keep his calls off the books. So that was a plus.
|
|
|
Post by Morse on Jun 23, 2012 11:08:41 GMT -5
The story came quickly and it didn’t have any stops. It was easy to tell that even with the longer description it was a greatly abridged version. Still it led Morse’s mind to wonder about all the circumstances that led to each individual point. He didn’t know why someone who was still technically wanted by the Alliance would be flying through to Sihnon, especially since it was one of the most restricting planets that there ever was.
It was the money that caught Morse’s mind the most. He knew Ray still had some of their mining charges. Marcus probably didn’t realize how useful those could be, since anywhere on the rim and border they were essentially a legal controlled explosive device that carried more power then the military model for twice the price. And given that Steve ran drugs, he wasn’t surprised that there was some lying around.
Credits that high however was something to be noted. And without being absent for a moment, the opportunist in Morse was already scratching its way to the surface. ”Maybe I help you.” Morse mentioned. ”If you send some a that money my way.”
The odds were that he wouldn’t be able to get any. With that sort of money you could buy your way out of the problem, and most people knew that Morse would find a way to get something out any proposition. He had motives both long and short term, and never passed up an opportunity.
|
|
|
Post by Marcus O'Terra on Jun 23, 2012 11:27:34 GMT -5
Marcus saw Morse chew this over and there were plenty of gaps, Marcus didn't mind that too much. But when it came to what Morse wanted in return for help Marcus let his shoulder's slump only slightly.
He wasn't going to lie to Morse, not when he needed help; not when he didn't think he could pull the wool over the man's eyes."Would that I could. The Fed burnt it black." There wasn't much to say at that point. He doubted Morse wanted anything to do with the drugs, but if he did?
Marcus would be hard pressed to allow it. But it'd be better to space that crap and let it rot; otherwise it might end up in some junkie. Marcus thought about it though, what if they were shipping that at the time when the busted in?
That means someone would come looking for the drugs anyway. FUCK. He kept his face level when this realization of probability hit him. He waited for Morse's response.
|
|
|
Post by Morse on Jun 23, 2012 12:13:16 GMT -5
Morse’s mouth closed and his eyes rolled. ”That’s a load a bullshit” He said back. ”You’da hung onto as much a that as you could.” Though the excuse he gave right there would probably have worked even he did still have the money, Morse didn’t think Marcus was the quick mind that he was. And even still, Ray was still on the ship, so he’d know that word might get to Morse of such a huge set of circumstance.
Arms now folded at his chest, Morse began to think about the whole thing. ”That doesn’t surprise me though.” Morse remarked about the whole situation. ”That’s the risk ya take when you kill a drug runner and steal his ship.” He laughed a bit, since he really didn’t care that Steve was dead. He was a painful thorn in the side of everyone he came across. Some of his crew not so much, but good people tended to get hurt when they followed bad people.
Thinking a moment Morse recalled that the ship had essentially been his when they grabbed it, and he had his own regrets about not checking every square inch of the ship, since that money could have been his. ”Hell heavy shit like that’s all that was in the cargo bay when we grabbed it.” It was just the drugs, no money unfortunately. Of course Morse hadn’t exactly needed it.
Sitting back up Morse got back to it. ”So you need to make it seem like you were never on the planet? Morse clarified. ”Like at all?” He wanted to make sure, because he’d need to know specifically what to do about it. Typically if you left any loose ends, it always came back and hit hard. Morse had experience with that somewhat recently, and now Marcus had to.
|
|
|
Post by Marcus O'Terra on Jun 23, 2012 14:11:10 GMT -5
Marcus was a little worried when Morse called bullshit on the money. He was glad he didn't lie, and there really wasn't much time for explaining. "He waved this scanner over it and the whole lot of em went black with a red spot in the middle." He remembered the look on his face.
His comment on stealing the ship brought a boil in his brain though. "Yeah, but you held it out there for me and what was I going to say. 'No Morse, I'd much rather be a freeloader on your ship?' That's not smart, it's rude." He shook his head, not wanting to go further with it.
"Exactly, no one was in this dock at all this morning." He nodded.
|
|
|
Post by Morse on Jun 23, 2012 18:11:32 GMT -5
The explanation of what happened to the money was an interesting thing. He’d heard about devices like that, but he’d never known anyone who had actually seen one used before. And not on an amount of money that came anywhere close to what was described. Morse had trouble imagining that much money being virtually set on fire in an instant. Really the part that bothered him the most was that it wasn’t pocketed by anyone. Being put back in the Federal Banking System was almost insulting to people like them.
”Pff, rude.” Morse mocked. ”You wouldn’t a given a damn if you were shittin’ in a Kings soup as far as rudeness goes. You grabbed that ship and you were outa there.” Morse didn’t care, he’d had no use for the ship over all.
The odds were he wouldn’t have been able to find the money on the ship anyway, and would have probably just sold it. He could have made a lot of money with that, but he didn’t realistically need it.
”Mmmk, some of us know a guy, Mr. Dishes.” Morse explained, finally getting to the part that Marcus wanted. ”He lives for the sake of doing this kinda shit. I’ll give him a call. Witnesses aside, he’ll make it look like you were never even in the quadrant. That gonna work?” Morse presumed it would be, but he wanted to be sure.
|
|
|
Post by Marcus O'Terra on Jun 23, 2012 20:55:11 GMT -5
Marcus didn't think Morse would respond like he did to Marcus's statement on manners. He actually laughed at the metaphor Morse used. It's almost what he'd done to the Fed. There he'd been at the peak of his game and then bam. Tazer to the face.
How was he going to deal with that man. Not at this moment, he wasn't.
Morse mention a man, 'Mr Dishes'. And something in Marcus relaxed, and he knew Morse was finally giving Marcus what he'd hoped for.
"Thats it exactly. Thanks." He paused, as something clicked in his head. "Mr. Dishes? As in satellite dishes?" It was odd but not the weirdest thing he'd heard of.
|
|
|
Post by Morse on Jun 23, 2012 22:15:08 GMT -5
”Ya, somethin’ like that.” Morse answered. He started to have the story come back to his head and he decided to share it. ”He floats out on some cortex relay station, wayyy out on the very edge of known space. The story says that one time when he got a supply drop, he was wearing a suit covered in little satellite dishes.” Morse’s jaw moved to the right and he looked towards the desk. ”I think he was trying to boost the over all signal as much as possible.”
Raising his eyebrows Morse thought about his own work with him. ”Knowing him, I wouldn’t doubt he tried it.” He added. He didn’t dislike the man, but he was somewhat difficult to handle just because his brain was so fried. That detail didn’t need to be mentioned however.
Morse turned his head back to the screen. ”Ya, so I’ll call him up. But…” Morse stopped with his index finger pointing up. ”That makes two you’ll owe me.” Another finger going up to show the number. Morse kept a running total of things that were owed, and Marcus was someone who was quite in debt as far as favors went.
|
|
|
Post by Marcus O'Terra on Jun 24, 2012 12:40:17 GMT -5
Marcus was genuinely surprised that the man Dishes was apparently what Morse was describing him as. He'd believe it when he saw it; he had no reason to question it now, though. He actually laughed a little at the 'stage whisper' Morse pulled when he gave his own opinion.
"That... that's some kind of special." Marcus admitted. He leaned back, a weight off his back, when Morse held up his hand. Marcus was instantly reminded of the debt he owed Morse. He actually didn't mind it all that much.
"I remember." All things considered, Morse wasn't the worst person to have a debt to. If he ever came to call them in, Marcus would do the job. Same as he ever had.
"I'm gonna head out now. At the very least, I've got a job to do." He nodded to Morse. "Thank you, and good luck with..." He shrugged. "Whatever you've got going right now. Bye. He closed the channel and exhaled.
|
|