Headings and Hearsay

[Marcus O'Terra]

Marcus sat on at the helm, on the lower section of the bridge. He'd called for the crew to assemble and by the sound of it, they were already mingling above him, on the upper deck. He had the new course laid in, and was in the process of turning the ship so it was on a clear run to Shadow. The stars blurred and shifted, and as he put on the trust and locked in the course he exhaled, thinking up his little speech.


"As you can see, folks." He walked up the steep steps to the observation section. "We are making a new course. The destination at the end isShadow."

He walked over to the console and started bringing up the data he'd received from Longstreet. "Our target is a downed wreck. Formerly the Kulumack Class Guiding Light."

 The flat image appeared on circular navigation console set in the middle of the observational area. Marcus stood with his back to the front of the ship, setting him against the black of space.

"Specifically we're after a container in this cabin." Another keystroke and the particular cabin was highlighted. "Get in, snatch it, grab it. We don't stay long, don't drink the water; and by accounts we should have a nice bit of coin for the trouble."

He put his hands on his hips, looking to the group. "Ground teams open for anyone. Any takers?"

[Ilana Logan]

Ilana listened carefully as Marcus explained where they were going and why.  Essentially, they were headed to a backwater, uninhabited planet in the Georgia system.  The risk of anything happening on a planet that no one else would be on was pretty low.  However, it was uninhabited for a reason.  It had at one point been livable, but since the war for independence it wasn't anymore.  Of course anything could happen while they were there.  If for any reason they couldn't make it back to the ship, they would all die of course.  She wasn't expecting that to be honest, but she considered all possibilities before agreeing to something.  Well, she usually considered all options.  There had been times she ran in head first without asking questions.  This particular mission seemed pretty cut and dried.  That alone told her there was more to know than was being laid out for them to soak up.  If this was such an easy "get in and get out" type of mission why were they getting such a "tidy sum of money" as Marcus had put it?  Surely they wouldn't be getting paid well for something so easy.

Also, they would be out on the rim.  Everything is more dangerous out on the rim.  On the rim, the Reavers preyed.  Granted, Reaver territory was over in the Blue Sun area, but they traveled a lot more of the rim than their designated area.  She'd remembered all too clearly what had happened on Haven.  She'd been given a permanent reminder of what happened on Haven, right on her damn leg.  She'd liked to wear shorts before then, she'd even had what you'd call nice legs, but now she had a pretty damn awful looking scar where a Reaver "survivor" bit the shit out of her, and showing off that nasty legacy is not something that had been on her to do list, and she didn't think it was likely to be any time soon.  "Nice legs" just don't include jagged bite marks.  On the upside of her Haven experience, there hadn't actually been any Reavers on Haven when she'd landed with that crew.  There had only been that one poor bastard that they had neglected to put out of his misery before they left.  Or maybe they left him alive out of sheer meanness...or madness.  Who knew with Reavers?  They were insane, bottom line.  You couldn't put yourself into the mind of a Reaver unless you were one.  Then you would exactly be telling people about it.

Snapping herself out of her memory, she thought carefully over the prospect of being on the ground crew.  There was a risk, of course.  There was always a risk.  Being out on the rim is both great, because the alliance rarely came out that far, and dangerous, because criminal and Reavers took advantage of that solitude  She'd seen firsthand what Reavers could, and did, do every time they had a mind to.  Which seemed to be near every time they saw living non-Reavers.  She'd also seen what a band of thieves could do.  Hell, this crew  was a band of thieves.  They'd murdered everyone on this ship because some guy with weird hair told them to.  None of them had any second thoughts, they just did it.  Sometimes she wondered if that made her any better than all the people wanted by the alliance for murder.  Surely that was exactly what she, and the others, had done.  Mentally shaking herself, she pushed the thought away.  Nothing to be done about it now.  Might as well not dwell on it, she thought.  She carefully weighed her options.  It seemed that neither of them was a very good prospect.  Go in with the ground crew and have something to concentrate on aside from possible impending doom, or sit on the ship in orbit twiddling her thumbs for want of something to concentrate on and wait to be boarded by another band of thieves or Reavers.

Ground crew it is, she thought.  Anyone shows up who ain't supposed to be there, I'll fight til I can't.

She mentally slapped herself to get her thoughts away from that horribly bleak place, and she forced herself to speak.  She spoke clearly and evenly, with no inflection whatsoever, when she said, "I'll go out with the ground teams."  If she'd tried for any more than that, her voice would have shaken, and betrayed her anxiety over this mission.  That was the last thing she wanted at this point.

[Jay Fuller]

Jay was leaning against one of the few walls that didn't have a terminal on it. When Marcus put up the ship's specs on the console, Jay moved in closer to get a better look at it. It seemed like a pretty easy job, but everything was easier said then done. Go in, get it, get out. It seemed like that's what they always did, but last time there was a woman that got in the way with her loud voice. Well, Jay figured, we'll see what happens this time. This time, however, part of him wanted to be in the action instead of monitoring the skies from the ship again. But then again, up in orbit was safe. Or, safer. But Jay didn't join the crew to be safe, he came to experience. Whether it was romance, violence, or something in between, he wanted to be part of life.

"I'll join the ground crew this time," he said. It was then he noticed that Ilana got a little shaky. Or maybe he was imagining it? He figured he must have when she offered to join the ground crew as well. After glancing at the rest of the crew, Jay kept his eyes on the terminal.

"So, do we know what's in the package, or is it more of a 'don't ask, don't tell' sort of deal?" he asked. He thought the more information he could have about the object of desire, the better to get. He also wondered if there was a detailed map of what the ship looked like, and where the package was. That would make things easier, but he decided to let his first question get answered first.

[Bishop Morse]

After a number of days spent on the ship, Morse was already getting used to it. His lodgings matched his quarters on the Logan, with the exception of a few things being out of order, but he was still in the process of getting everything where he wanted. Ray and he had a lot of stuff, and they needed places to put them. Moving anything at all for them was bound to have been a very serious and long sort of ordeal. During the war, things on the Logan had been somewhat relaxed, but no one had very much to hang on to, especially during the end. After it, they had to move all their stuff in. Taking it out had been more difficult as it was everything acquired and placed over a period of time. This was a bit different, but it moved quickly enough. Morse was still a bit taken back by the size of the vessel upon which he now resided. It was deceptively large. The Mantis T-5 was a large vessel as well, but this vessel was even larger. What Morse didn’t like about it was that space in it wasn’t used very effectively. It had a rather simple layout, that didn’t utilize all the space, more so leaving the entire center for cargo space. The whole thing was built on top of the large cargo bay at the middle, where as many other transports wrapped things around it. The lack of stairs was what threw Morse off first. It was like living in a large one story house, rather then the two story one he’d been on for a very long time. But he’d come around to it, he just would have preferred the vessel to be a bit tighter in terms of interior, rather then seeming so large yet empty.

But while he stood there, Morse knew what they were going for. He was the one who had suggested bringing them to do it to Longstreet. Initially the thought was for Morse to handle it, but as he was giving up his ship, that wasn’t bound to happen. He didn’t get in the way though while the description of it was given. Morse had done a bit of looking into what it was they were going for and it was about as simple a thing as could ever be done. All they had to do was land on a dead rock, walk onto an empty ship, find something that no one knew was there, and walk out with it. The only actual issue was not drawing attention to the vessel. But to Morse’s knowledge there wasn’t anything anyone there could be held for. On that same note, he never bothered to ask. But judging from the types they were, he presumed any crimes committed were likely local and not of much consequence, though that was excluding Marcus, but anyone could claim ignorance if he were picked up. Morse didn’t take any of them though to have a lot of experience. They may have fired weapons before, but not to a point where they knew exactly what they were doing. Not that such a thing came into play there. Morse didn’t think they would know much about what they were doing once they hit the ground. So as the call for volunteers came up, Morse rose his right hand from the elbow, with his index finger loosely pointing up. ”If only to find something I might want to keep for myself.” Morse pointed out. Of course he’d also try to do what they needed, but his sticky fingers and opportunistic nature wasn’t subsiding anytime soon.

Hearing mention of what they were looking for, Morse decided to say something. He knew enough about it and why, probably more then Marcus did. Sure it was Marcus’ briefing and job, but Morse’s idea of discipline was somewhat different then others. ”It’s some old ass Gǒu shǐ wāndòu pistol”Morse said remarking on the size of the item itself. ”Longstreet wants to hand it off as a gift to a friend.” Morse mentioned. Morse wasn’t all that concerned with ancient items, that so many other people were. He recognized the value of them, but he opted for more modern aspects. Ancient history was merely a building block, literally, for modern history. And things from Earth-That-Was didn’t effect a single thing in their reality, at least from Morse’s point of view. But some people loved that junk, and killed to so much as touch them, and that was more then enough for Morse to see opportunity for exploit.


Gǒu shǐ wāndòu – Shit Pea 

[Marcus O'Terra]

Marcus nodded as the three hands went up. Jay, Morse, and Ilana. A four person squad would be a good idea. "Right then. Rest of the crew will stay on the ship. Ray'll have the conn." Ray had the experience to keep the Hawkeye and Ilana in line.

He pointed on the map, to a location north of the crash site. "We set down two kliks north. The team will head out on the Hover Mule, that way we've got some buffer if the place is more dangerous. Longstreet's intel seemed to have it that scavengers have been over this place. But it's not likely they lifted our target." 

He looked around, "Questions, Complaints, Suggestions?" he looked around and asked.

[Ray Hudson]

Ray sat with the rest of the group. He listened to Marcus and considered whether or not he should go. It was a simple job and there was no reason for a large group of people to go. But there was also nothing keeping him from going. He had never been on Shadow before. He only saw the images, the images that were shown to the whole universe. He wondered what the aftermath looked like in person. They wouldn't be there long however, and there probably wasn't much to see.

Indecision keept him from answering and Marcus ended up putting him on the comm while he stayed on the ship. Ray didn't really care at first but as he thought about it, he rejected the idea.

Ray always had problems making decisions. Whenever faced with a difficult decision, Ray would spend to much time thinking and couldn't bring himself to pull the trigger. He always tried to balance out the pros with the cons and they always ended up with the same amount on both sides. When Marcus asked if their were any questions, complaints and suggestions, Ray spoke without thinking.

"Yeah, actually, I wanna go." He claimed. In the end, Ray didn't want to just sit around with an earpiece, waiting for nothing to happen.

[Bishop Morse]

In general Morse already knew everything that they were going to be doing. He didn’t exactly know about the ship or have any specific listings on that, but he had heard that they’d found out where this old little thing was. He didn’t have to be told that the shifty types of people had been around there. There wasn’t anywhere was really safe from anyone, and certain vessels with quite the high powered scanners could pick up a thumb tack that had been by a reactor that was buried in the sand. Those generally were kept on the Alliance ships, but they weren’t as fine of people as some seemed to believe they were. Morse knew about that first hand. But then no one was clean at that day in age, at least not those that floated around on ships. Whether they be working for the government or running from it, everyone had a very different set of morals at given moments when there was opportunity. Maybe some ship commander didn’t kill people with a gun, but that isn’t to say he didn’t turn the cannons on his vessel onto a group of escaping fugitives. Things like that happened all the time. Sure they maybe did something that made them somewhat deserving, but rare was the moment when the death penalty should be awarded to everyone. Of course fair trials on the Rim weren’t exactly common either, as most judges had their own personal noose on a tree right outside the court house.

Here was no different. If anything Shadow was bound to be infamous for smugglers. It was a dead rock of barren land. So long as the terraformers weren’t coming around, the Alliance didn’t care, and how could they stop it? One barren rock where no one could get hurt except for the people that hang around for an extended period of time? They’d opt for just leaving them to die. There wasn’t anything valuable left over on Shadow as it was, just bones and dust. So trade offs and such were inevitable. Morse would be surprised if this was the only ship that disappeared on Shadow, but it was the one they were looking for.

At the call of suggestions Morse didn’t actually have anything. This was a walking job. They’d go where they were going and go right out. It wasn’t like charging into a place with armed men, shooting them while getting shot at, and running to get they needed before they had serious problems. Just given that, it almost seemed pointless to talk about. On the Logan Morse probably wouldn’t have even told anyone at a briefing like this. Just told who was going in passing and then they’d go and do it. Morse hadn’t hardly even done mission briefings during the war. He did it on occasion, namely if there was risk, such as before they went to Hera. But if it was something that practically seemed routine, that wouldn’t matter almost at all. ”I’m drivin’.” Morse pointed out. It was still his vehicle, and driving that wasn’t exactly the same as everything else. Sure one could figure it out if they’d had experience before, but they were still his cars sitting in the cargo bay, and if anyone else set up there, he’d probably just pull the power cell connector until they got off. Morse was a very fickle person and he would go to lengths like that just to prove a point.

[Marcus O'Terra]

Marcus nodded at Morse's point. He wasn't going to try and drive something he wasn't used to anyhow. At this point the group seemed to accept the plan, and had no complaints. Besides Ray's claim to go.

"Fine, Ray. You're on as well. Hawkeye, you keep the door shut and an eye on ALL the door sensors." He nodded toward a security panel. "No unwelcome visitors. You keep Amelia up in the cockpit. ANY wierd noise coming from the back. You lock that door and call us back."

He looked over at the distance reader and nodded. "Hawkeye, keep our heading. Everyone else, Kit up and get ready for entry."


(End Heading and Hearsay)