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"Well...it's nothing I'm not used to already. Mason grinned at Jackson, "Looks like I fit in better than I thought..."

"Jao Gao," said as he pulled his own weapon and threw himself against the wall of Sellick's shack, "I guess being a black market dealer does have draw backs." Jackson holstered his pistol, "Hey you down there," he called out to the group of thugs, "I dunno what Sellick did ta call down all this wrath, but we ain't got no part in this."

"Ya do now, Huen Dahn," a bullet embedded itself inches from Jackson's head.

Gun fire whizzed through the air and when Mason joined Jacks behind Sellick's shack he paused a moment listening exclaiming, "Tzao gao!!" The ship hand looked over at Jackson, "Sounds like one of them is using a Peacekeeper," he said before a few more shots cut through the air. "And a python...can't determine the kick of it..."

"I don't think it much matters," Jackson pulled his gun again, "What kind of Mi Tian Gohn are you in?" Jackson leveled his eyes to Sellick.

"That's gotta be Yuan Moore!! Lousy bastard!!!" Sellick slurred looking over at Jacks drunkenly.

Before the man could embarrass himself further Mason chimed in, "When we get you out of this mess we're going to down to 10 at minimum and it lowers by half each time we feel or hear a bullet get near us! Got it?" Hoping that maybe an extra thousand off would make the brothers happy and perhaps just the absurdity of the statement would throw Jacks off from asking certain questions that may not have made Sellick happy.

More bullets started to hit the hut, "Do we got a deal or not?!" he screamed at the Junkyard Owner.

Sellick narrowed his eyes knowing full well what Mason was doing now, "I'll go down to Nine and a half if you get me out of here alive and I don't ever see you again Mason!"

Mason looked toward Jacks, "This keeps me on the ship for the next few weeks, right?!" he yelled trying to think of a plan and to ensure his passage was completely secure at this point.

"Can't speak for the boys, but I won't be throwing you out of an airlock anytime real soon," The ship's engineer swung around the corner of the wall and fired his weapon at the their assailants. After he did, Jackson tapped his finger to his ear once more, "Hey boys we have a bit of a Tian Fuhn Di Fu here."

"How Wrin Bu Lai, Whai Wrin Bu Jwo?" Dru picked up on the other side.

"We were about five minutes from finalizing the deal and five Huen Dahn come down here looking for Mason's buddy."

"Shiney," even over the comm, Jackson could hear Dru's sarcasm, "remind me to throw him out an airlock."

"Noted," Jackson grinned as he shot again, "how far out are you two?"

"About fifteen more minutes. Try to hold out and don't get yourself perished."

The comm went silent and Jackson shot Mason a sideways glance, "Think we can last fifteen till the cavalry shows up?"

A laugh echoed from Mason's lips, "What's an extra fifteen minutes of being shot at? So do we be aggressive or just keep getting shot at?"

"I'm thinking aggression works," Jackson fired again, this time hitting one of them in the leg, "You?"

Grinning Mason made his way through the junk yard pulling out a make shift club in the form of a metal bar. He waited down low and once one the men walked past him searched the sudden thud of metal meeting the back of someone's skull was heard. Although he now hated guns, Mason knew how to use them and on the ground was the knocked out man's Peacekeeper, twelve round gun that worked with a clip. He signaled the two of them to get in close, "Aggressive too, a little less waiting for that one. Your turn sir," he said low whispering to Jacks.

"Showoff," Jackson grumbled to himself as several other bullets whizzed past him. He took several more shots at the group, but each of his shots missed. "Ri shao gou
shi bing."

"You know all you had to do was give us the Wong ba Duhn," Yuan called out, "but now, you've taken out two of my men and really pissed me off."

"Sorry just not in my nature to let others get bullied around," Jackson shrugged, "just part of my nature I guess. Still not to late you know, why don't you and you're boys just clear out and we can end this the easy way."

Two more shots whizzed by Jackson's head as an answer.

"Okay, I guess it's the hard way then."

Mason sat and thought for a few moments, "We could play mind games on the kind folks shooting at us..." he suggested with a shrug.

"Whatcha got in mind?"

"Every junker has some kind of equipment to strip and break down metals. The loud noise could confuse them and stifle bullets. People do some dumb things when confused, believe me I know that one personally..," the fence winced a little thinking about that one for a second. "Also, it'd be mighty hard for people coming to save us to not find us with all that racket going on....All we need to do is get to it..."

"Go for it," Jackson nodded, "I'll cover you, and watch him," he jerked his head down toward Sellick.

With a deep breathe to clear his nerves Mason began sneaking around and a few bullets sent him back toward Jacks way, "These aren't your typical mindless guards. One of them got it covered...But we do have something they don't have..."

"What's that?

"A bargaining chip," Mason smiled wickedly at Jacks pointing toward direction of the man that was knocked out earlier by the fence. He smiled, "It's a fifty-fifty shot. They'll either be really loyal willing to work something out, or very happy to suddenly see their cuts get a little bigger with one less mouth to feed."

Sneaking off yet again Mason grabs the body of the unconscious man dragging him back slowly to the group of Jackson and Higgins. "You know I'm not going to shoot him right?" he glanced at Jacks hoping the sincerity in his wasn't lost on the ship mechanic.

"As long as it keeps my blood pumping in a, not all over the floor sorta way," Jackson nodded, "then I'm good."

With a very pleasant and sweet sounding voice, "Good,"Mason wrapped his left arm around the man's throat and pressed the Peecekeeper to the man's skull,"Sellick, would you do the honors and wake this gentleman up."

Sellick with a slightly-drunken glee filled smile started to smack the man awake once that didn't work the man pulled out a flask and started to wave it under his nose, "Moonshine. Smells awful, taste worse, but it gets the job done.." the man said with a slight slur of his words but getting shot at tends to sober up the body real quick.

When the man started to shake and jerk his head as consciousness came to him Mason cocked the hammer to the Peacekeeper back and spoke in soft and an almost angelic tone that was entirely creepy given the situation, "Did you hear that? Forget about the pain in your head focus on the now..." Mason's grip tightened as the man tried to escape, "Mind telling me why you're shooting at me and my comrades here. And don't try to run I've got your nasty little piece pressed against your skull and one round will make sure you're seeing all sorts fire and flame after the bullet leaves you skull." He sighed really hating to negotiate under these terms, "So I repeat, why are you shooting at us?"

"Sellick! He screwed my buddy over real good...Wants what he thinks is owed," the man said trying to sound fearful, but it's kind of hard when you're afraid thanks to the gun pressed against your head.

"That Huen Dahn Hallifax got a good deal!!! I wasn't going to screw myself over on the price!!! Guy's been complainin' for weeks!!!" Sellick looked like he was about to backhand the guy.

"Me and my buddy Jacks here...we don't like getting shot at...Usually we frown upon it...You wanna tell him what we did to the last guys that shot at us Jacks," Mason fired a few warning shots in the air just to unnerve all of the parties.

Jackson's eyes narrowed, "Let's just say they ain't exactly breathin' oxygen."

Smiling wickedly at Jacks as an earlier comment gave him an idea, "That was pretty nasty when we let them hang just out of air lock as was broke atmo...messy too, wasn't it?"

"Freeze dried blood all over the gorram place. Prolly gonna attract Reavers."

Continuing to stay on Mason's face that smile only widened as Jacks added to the tale, "Now you don't want that do ya...?" the man adamantly shook his head no even uttered out a few fear filled "No"s. "Now call off your buddies because I'm really not in the mood to clean up another mess like that," he said pausing for only a second, "But I will if have to!"

"GUYS!!! STOP!!! STOP OR THEY'LL FILL ME FULL OF HOLES!!" the hostage yelled.

Silence filled the air once again as the occasional gunfire stopped, "Is that you Rex!?"

"Yeah!! I got myself taken hostage by two guys, two guys Sellick hired," the man said as Mason still held on tight.

"You don't sound in trouble!"

Sighing Mason looked down for a moment before closing his eyes. Regret for future actions was creeping up inside. Sadly, actions spoke louder than words especially in situations like this. The sound of one bullet leaving the chamber as Mason pointed the gun at Rex's left foot. A scream filled the air as a bullet tore through flesh, muscle, and bone as Rex now had a minor gunshot wound. All Mason wanted was that sudden scream, in hindsight it would have been easier and cleaner to just break a few fingers.

"YOU WERE SAYING!!!"

Jackson turned from his hiding area to get a view of their assailants. They had all now huddled together and seemed to be arguing, "I'd say that worked."

"Kill him," Yuan said calmly.

"Or not."

---

The Dormouse banked around as Tyler found a little rocky burm just the right height to keep it out of sight were Jacks and Mason's unwelcome company to venture back out. They were in deep enough for Alices repairs, fixing up or replacing a shuttle wasn't exactly on the menu. He'd burned a bit of fuel to speed their arrival, but as they had agreed a good mechanic was worth a tank of gas. And Jackson had proven a bit better than just good for their girl.

"Alright," Dru pulled the long Winchester from its clutch along the wall. He tossed it unceremoniously over into his brother's waiting hand. "Shall we go pick up our boy?"

Tyler nodded, checking the bullet in the rifle's chamber and sliding it away, lifting it up he checked the scope's alignment. "Let's shall..."

Normally this was one of those situations where two people would run over their plan of attack. Tyler and Durden had barely even spoken about it since they heard from Jackson. Something about it just had that air of 'just another day' between them. Still, there would be no rushing back to the ship for a hurried take off. Not today. That knowledge hung in the back of both their minds.

Durden's fist slammed against the ramp, opening the mouth up to the belly of the shuttle. This time there was no waiting party on horseback, just dry land and a gravel road that was supposed to lead to Sellick's yard. He trotted down the metal ramp, surveying the rolling landscape. Tyler joined him with the long Winchester cocked up against his shoulder. Behind them the door slid up and sealed the Dormouse shut.

They shared a look and headed up the road.

---

Jackson and Mason sat up against the wall with Sellick in between them and their captive thug bleeding and moaning in front of them.

"Well you got any other ideas?" Alice's engineer shot Mason a hopeful glance.

"Not at this point no," mason shook his head, "We're outnumbered and outgunned, and they don't seem much like they want to negotiate." He looked about curiously, "It's foolish but we could always split up. Draw their fire on two targets...keep them busy before the cavalry comes..." he shrugged as the plan sounded risky, and half-assed because it was exactly that. However, it was the only plan Mason could think of that moment. Keep people busy, guessing, and distracted before help shows.

The next sound Mason heard was a gun cocking behind his head, "Y'all caused us a lot of trouble." Yuan looked at Jackson with a smile on his face, "Why don't you drop the piece, shwie?"

Jackson did as he was told letting his gun slid slowly out of his hand and onto the ground.

Mason breathed in calmly trying not to look at the gun but knowing it was there, "Can't we work something out? Be reasonable about this..." Perhaps if he could talk up a good game it would stall them to the point people would arrive...or it could end up with his brain matter smeared across the ground.

"Do we really look like reasonable folks?" Yuan grinned, but it didn't last long. Something in the smile that played across Jackson's face made him uneasy. His eyes narrowed. "What?"

Instead of any response from the mechanic Moore was answered by the cocking hammer of a revolver. His teeth set hard in his jaw. "That would be me." The barrel pressed into the man's temple. "And I feel it only fair I should warn you. You caused a heap o trouble for my good man here. From what I could hear as I arrived there was gunfire..." He looked over to Jackson who still wearing that smile. "Now you may not know him all that well, but he's not so much the sort to go shooting first. That tells me you started all this ruckus."

He reached over with his free hand and plucked the pistol from Moore's hand. "Do you know how hard it is to find a good mechanic?" He tossed the pistol into Jackson's waiting hand.

"What took you so long?" He swung the handle about to right the barrel's direction.

"Couldn't find parking."

"I hate to break up your banter." There was a commotion as Moore's two other companions revealed themselves and their weapons. [color=#thug]"But I ain't a alone in this party."[/color]

"Who is?" A small grin crept across Dru's face. "And remember what I said about Jackson here not being the sort to shoot first?" A shot cracked through the junkyard. It was a loud popping sound that echoed off the scrap and parts that populated the grounds. One of Moore's men crumpled, his hand dropping his revolver and grabbing his shoulder as blood pooled out underneath him on the dusty ground. "Can't say the same thing for my brother."

Tyler stepped out from behind a junkpile, his sidearm trained on the last armed gunman. "Why don't you toss that hand-cannon neighbor? I'm not in the best of moods right now and the last several hours have made me a might twitchy, as your friend there in the dirt can attest to."

Mason just smiled brightly as the barrel across the way was starting to lower, then thrown to the dust. "I think now would be a good time to mention....I lowered our cost down a bit more," he said to the brothers since one of them said "good man" as in singular and then quickly referenced Jackson. He wanted to make sure the brothers didn't see him as expendable.

Jackson stood up and dusted off his jeans, "Think we oughta let these buhn dahn go?" He bent down and picked up all the loose weapons on the ground, "I mean I guess we could just leave um here. Junkyard's as good a place as any to hide bodies."

"Don't much care," Dru replied giving Moore a shunt forward.

"Don't much want them following us though." Tyler reloaded the rifle.

"Listen I'm sure we can work something out," Moore grumbled, "Our beef wasn't with you fellers, it was with that (piece of $#!& in chinese)."

"Maybe," the pilot shouldered his rifle, "Maybe now you feel the need for a little retribution. Plus, as you may have noticed, we got some business going on with your friend here."

The drumming of hoofs echoed up off the ship parts and debris toward them. All eyes turned to find six men riding in on a cloud of dust, barrels drawn on the scene. "Alright," the man in the center drew a hard bead on Tyler with a long cobalt steel barrel, "why don't you just folks just ease those weapons of yours down to the ground." He clicked the hammer back. "Nice and easy..."

They all stared back at the cadre of mounted and armed men, hesitant to lay down their arms. As the stand off held the man in the center adjusted his coat. A shining golden badge glinted off the sun. In the silence the clicking sound was deafening as Durden, Tyler, and Jackson all eased the hammers up on their pistols. "Crap..."

"You are bound by law," the lawman's eyes narrowed.

"Whoa hold on there a second we were just comin' to bail our friends out of a trouble..."

The lawman gave Dru a dumbfounded look, "Not you Sa Gwa. Yuan Moore. He is wanted for thirteen counts of fraud and attempted murder."

Dru's face slacked, "Oh," just as quickly as it slacked, his face brightened again, "is there a reward?"

---

"There wasn't a reward," Dru grumbled as Alice's crew all sat around her kitchen table, "but at least we got out of there with our skins and the parts we need to fix Alice."

"I'll drink to that," Jackson toasted Dru, who clinked glasses with the mechanic, "Repairs are almost done. We should have her back in the air again, in about a day."

"And then?" Hand resting on her chin, looked around the table with a sense of contentment. No one was bleeding, they were all home where they belonged... she counted that as a good day.

Ty shrugged his shoulders, "Far I can tell, we get back to the black. From there we find work and get everything back on track."

"Anything anyone needs of me before the evening is up?" Mason was sitting at the dinner table trying not to smile. Sure he had a gun pointed to his head earlier but now he was here with everyone. Even if he wasn't greatly welcomed, this was a definite improvement from the last ship.

"Nope," Dru shook his head lazily, "You did your part today. You deserve the rest."

"Celebratory toast before bed?"

All around the table held up their glasses, "Cheers." The twins said in unison.

"Sorry it's taken so long, baby," Jackson's hand rubbed the engine lovingly, "I promise it won't be long before we're back in the black." The mechanic's head slipped inside Alice's engines. "I almost have it, Alice. I know it's uncomfortable with me inside you but I'm almost done."

A soft couch echoed behind him. "That's not something you hear every day." The companion's full lips were pulled into a wry smile. "At least not from a man in the room alone."

The voice made Jackson jump, his head slamming against the steel of Alice's engine casing, "Gorram it!"

With a wince, the petite woman slowly made her way into the room. She set a fresh mug of coffee down on what looked to be a relatively safe, flat surface and peered around the engine to announce her presence in a less startling manner. "I apologize, Jackson. I didn't mean to surprise you." That smile tugged at her lips again. "But I'm afraid it was too good to pass up."

Alice's mechanic pulled his head, rubbing it the entire time from the inside of her engine and gave the Companion a smile, "It's okay, wasn't using that part of my brain anyway."

"But I come bearing gifts." She gestured toward the still steaming cup with a smile that seemed to falter slightly. "Though now that I know I've caused damage to your brain it hardly seems like enough. Perhaps if I got you some soup as well..."

"Naw it's fine," the grin grew, "It's my fault, the boys' talking to the ship gets infectious."

"Clearly." The slight arch to her perfect brows spoke volumes. "They're an infectious bunch. And so is she." Delicate fingers ran along the smooth lines of the engine. The companion watched the reflection of her hand as she slowly let it drop back to her side. "This planet, however, is not. I was hoping maybe you could give me a hint as to when we'll be ready to leave."

"Unless I've missed something," he turned his attention back to the engine, "it shouldn't be more than a few hours now," it was time for his eyebrows to raise, "Why, got a hot date?"

Though her face remained unchanged the spark in those violet eyes turned playful. It wasn't something she verbalized but, like most of her decisions about a person's character, it was settled quickly. She liked him. The tall mechanic fit well in this strange little family. "Not nearly as hot as the one I interrupted. But, I imagine, not all women are as lucky as Alice."

Jackson's cheeks flushed a bit, "Yeah well..."

With a smile, Vanya decided to have mercy on him. "No hot dates." A slight frown creased her flawless brow. She wasn't entirely certain her brothers would let her take on any clients at this point. "Just the desire to back out there." She waved a graceful hand toward the ceiling and the sky beyond it.

Jackson nodded, "I get that. I love the vibration of a ship under my feet when she's in the black."

She chuckled softly. "Careful, Jackson, or I'll have to start tormenting you about your hot date again."

Jackson took a sip from the mug in front of him, "It's okay, we're not ashamed of our love are we Alice," he patted the engine.

---

"Joe, you got those tweaks to the comm scrambler workin' yet?" Tyler was antsy. He wanted to get off this dustball and back into the black. Of course, it was a feeling they all shared, but Tyler tended to be a little more vocal about it. Evidenced by the fact that he'd asked the young tech the same question a dozen times in as many minutes.

"Hey, Dru," the boy said from where he was shoulder-deep in one of the cockpit control panels, "can you do me a favor and shoot Ty the next time he asks that?"

Dru laughed, "Boy's got a point, Ty. Why don't you go take a nap or something?"

Tyler mumbled something offensive and jammed the intercom with his thumb, "Jacks. How much longer till we can light this firecracker?"

The voice that came back to them was distinctly not Jacks. "I'm sorry. Jacks is busy doing unspeakable things to your engine... all in the name of love. I'm afraid you'll have to try back later."

"I am not!" Jackson's voice called right behind her, "Exactly..."

"Whatever you do on your own time, I don't want to hear about, but you're burning up valuable get-the-hell-out-of-here time. Let me know as soon as we're ready to fly."

"Gotcha boss."

Clicking off the intercom, Ty looked back to the half of boy stuck out one of his control panels, "Joe..."

"Dru..."

"Ty..."

"Done!" The exclamation came as Joe extracted himself from the console, rubbing electrical grease down the front of his coveralls and sucking on a finger. "Gorram capacitors weren't totally discharged." He buttoned the panel back up, "We should be ready to send or receive any time now, Mr. Impatient-pants."

Durden looked back at his brother. "See?" He smirked. "Just needed a little time was all," he told his brother with a smirk that knew full and well that patience was never a pilot's virtue. Taking things slow would never keep your ship in the air.

"I think I played a pretty big part here," their younger electrician groaned.

"True." That smirk grew "You should thank the young man."

Tyler's chin dropped and his eyes stayed focused on his brother's face. It was the expression equivalent of being punched in the shoulder. It was in these lighter moments that you could tell that these two men were more than just companions that had been through life and death together. They were brothers. "Thanks, Joe."

Alice's pilot snagged the corner of the console and gave it a quick tug that sent his chair circling back around. "Now if only-" There was an audible hum as Alice's heart roared back to life. Tyler shot a look back over his shoulder to find Durden chuckling softly.

The ship's comm popped. "She's back and purring again," Jackson's voice crackled through the shaky speaker, "Just please take it a bit easy starting out, she needs to be tweaked a bit and I can only do that while we're out and runnin'."

"I can fix that static," Joe said, leaning over the grate of the speaker. "prolly just a wire all loose."

"Ask and ye shall receive." Dru put a hand on the pilot's shoulder. "Get us out of here."

Tyler's fingers were already flipping switches across the board, prepping Alice to pick her feet up as soon as she was able. "You don't have to tell me once." The Looking Glass started to rumble around them in a familiar vibration. He pulled the com from its clip and held it to his mouth, thumbing the button down.

"Grab some hull, people," his voice echoed throughout Alice's metal belly. "We're gone."

---

"I think you need to give Joe a proper thanks," Dru said to the back of Ty's head. he was sitting on the crash couch at the back of the cockpit. They had no real direction at the moment. Not to say that they were flying blindly through the black, just that the next job had yet to present itself.

Ty twisted around in his seat, "Fine. Next time we're dirt-side, I'll take the kid out and get him drunk and find him a lady that likes'm on the young side..."

"That's not what I mean, and you know it." Dru knew his brother well enough to know that he was joking. Mostly. He smirked, "Still... not a bad idea."

"What's not a bad idea?" Vanya said as she stepped through the hatchway.

Tyler shot Dru a warning look, which his brother ignored, "Ty's gonna take Joe out next time we're planet-side and get the young fella drunked up and find him someone of the female persuasion to spend some quality time with as a thanks for all the hard work."

"You most certainly are not." As punishment, she took a seat near Dru, leaving Tyler's lap abandoned for the moment. "Joe's just fine the way he is." Doing her best to give her brothers a stern look, she managed to hide her amusement at the thought of what an entertaining disaster Ty's plan would actually be.

"Thanks. Ever so much."

Testing the mood of the room as she settled into her seat, not quite relaxed, the diminutive companion looked back and forth between the pair. Though she'd never admit to deliberately manipulating them, there were times when they were more agreeable than others. And, since she expected arguments, she was determined to enter this conversation with every weapon at her disposal. "It feels good to be on the move again."

"Never a better place to be," the bearded Kokezaru replied, shifting back into the dark cushions of the worn old couch. His eyes fell to the glass below, the twinkling, dusting of stars that slowly drifted by as Alice sailed through the black. "Drift a bit and catch our breath..."

His head tilted and he caught Vanya's eyes from their corners. Their time apart hadn't been so long that the browncoat couldn't tell that something was up. Even so, the companion always had been relatively good at hiding her intentions, even from them. "Last job left us sitting well enough to relax. Keep us sailing."

"Don't need another job like that." Tyler stomped on the flooring. "Girl's taken enough of a beating these last few months."

Dru nodded. "Work'll come when we need it." He smirked, that corner of his lip disappearing into his beard. "Always does."

He turned back to Vanya. "New quarters suit you?" His shoulder slid towards hers. "We know it's not your old room and all..."

Those violet eyes glowed with a warmth that seemed to reach to the stars around them. Never one to say no to Dru, Vanya leaned her head on his shoulder, the silken locks of hair falling across him to claim that arm as her own as the faint scent of lemons rose to fill the air. "I'm home," she answered simply. "It's not the room that matters. However..."

Tilting her head, she looked into his eyes, preparing to work her magic on him first. "If we're talking about the things we need..."

Dark eyes looked down to hers, catching that exotically colorful glint. "Yes?" He drew the word out, giving it that mild inflection that turned its end up in a way that denoted clear suspicion. Something was up.

She looked away for a fraction of a second, luring him in. Then, though the space between their bodies remained the same, her tone shifted towards business. "I've been screening auditions from potential clients. I plan to accept one from a longtime contact on Cherti."

The laugh came from across the room as Tyler swung that chair back around. "I see," Dru replied, though his tone implied that whatever it was he saw, it wasn't exactly eye to eye. He looked at her with a look that flirted with more older brother than it did the business that she had started. "Makes sense. Or wait." His brow knit together, and he turned from her face. Hey, Ty. Remember Triumph?"

Tyler didn't turn around, just spoke. "Like it was weeks ago."

"There was that guy."

"Chesterton Mark."

"Yeah, that was him." He stroked his beard. "Man... Whatever happened to that guy?"

"I shot him in the chest."

Durden snapped his fingers. "That's right," those eyes feel back to his little sister, "Ty shot him in the chest because he was trying to hunt you down for that obscenely rich, murdering bastard."

Since divide and conquer clearly wasn't working, Vanya crossed her arms over her chest and settled her increasingly frosty gaze on Tyler. "So now I can stay in my room forever? Maybe I should want to..." Her tone was slipped from the professional into more of a sister. But either way, she wasn't backing down.

Her brother broke, snickering. "Please..." his eyes rolled. "Am I supposed to take that bait, mei-mei? Really?"

Those perfect lips pulled into smirk. "Of course not, you're far too smart." Despite the devious little twinkle in her eyes, she patted his knee fondly. "But I will not live my life looking over my shoulder. We're alive. We're flying. I need to start getting my life back to normal." Her hand lifted through her hair then fell back to her lap in frustration. "Do you know how long it's been since I've worked?"

Dru shrugged his shoulders. He ran a quick calculation on how long it might have been since she'd landed on Triumph. "A month?" Judging by her pose and barely contained exasperation it was considerably longer. "And a half?"

"Unless you count Vincent while we were arranging homes for the kids, since before I boarded Repose." Her lips snapped shut in a thin line, but her eyes found his again, appealing to him as someone she knew would understand. "I need this."

He looked at her, those violet, pleading eyes holding him. "Wong bah duhn..." He sighed, shaking his head a little, a small glance shot to his brother who shrugged his shoulders. "What the hell were you doing on that ship?"

One down. A small chuckle shook her frame as she lifted his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders. "There were orphans, bandits, and aggressively-offensive crew members."

"Sounds lovely," the pilot snorted, swinging back about. "Like hanging out with Micky Grant for a weekend." Their old mechanic had been a rather notorious pain in the ass.

"God..." Dru gave a squeeze of his sister's shoulder, leaning her against him. "Don't remind me."

Many a man had paid a high price to hear the soft murmur of contentment that eased past Vanya's lips. "So we're heading to Cherti." It wasn't a question. Her gaze settled once again on Tyler. "It wouldn't be altogether unheard of for a Companion to have an escort or two..."

Tyler leaned on the arm rest of his chair and palmed his face. He sighed. Slowly his fingers ran back through his hair until he came face to face with her. "Cherti?" He sat back. "You couldn't have found a client not on a graveyard?"

Leaving the circle of Dru's arm, the little companion moved closer to Tyler. Placing her hands on his clean-shaven cheeks, she smiled at her victory. "Samuel is the client I'm accepting at the moment. Perhaps next time I'll let you suggest a more picturesque location for my work." Dropping her warm palm from his cheek, her touch was both gentle and insistent as lead him to the couch. With a light push, she encouraged him to take the seat then placed herself between the boys, settling into that comfortable Kokezaru sandwich. "Graveyard or not... you'll go there for me, won't you?"

Tyler and Durden shared a look. Cherti had managed to stay neutral during the war. The reward for the planet's inaction had been its use as a graveyard for both Independents and Alliance. The brothers served with more of the planet's residents than they cared to admit, only taking a small amount of solace in the fact that they were also responsible for planting a fair number of the other side there themselves.

Tyler sighed heavily, "Why do I get the feeling we'd go to the very center of Hell if she asked?"

"Which one?"

"All of them."

"Because we're here already," Durden replied, looking over at their sister. "And she didn't even ask for that one."

Her lips pulled in that familiar smile, the one just for them. "I don't recall asking for brothers either. But I love you both, just the same."

The Kokezarus looked at one another. "Alright," Durden said, shaking his head a little with that defeat.

Tyler got up and went back to the pilot's chair. "Cherti it is..."

"There she is..." Alice's pilot banked as they entered the smaller planet's orbit and took them around. From the black, Cherti, looked gray and desolate. It was fitting for a planet infamous for its graveyards. Despite acquiescing to Vanya's request, neither of the Kokezaru brothers were terribly thrilled about visiting the so called "Ghost Planet", and for that reason there was no discussion when Tyler took them on another leisurely orbit before turning them on their end for their approach.

As always, Vanya was there to watch the landing, the soft scent of citrus filling the cockpit around her. Delicate hands resting on Tyler's shoulders, she didn't say a word as her brother took his time easing Alice toward her eventual landing. She also had yet to make her own preparations for meeting with a client. It was part unspoken retribution for making her wait to set foot on Cherti, part an uncharacteristic hesitation over her first client in months.

Her fingers curled ever so slightly, wrinkling the fabric of his shirt as she looked down on the planet. "There she is..."

Breaking through the gray clouds revealed an equally gray landscape below. There was simply nothing attractive about the planet on any level. Even the twinkling lights of the city that was their destination seemed dulled. Passing through the bleak sky, they crossed an invisible barrier in to controlled airspace, immediately lighting up Alice's com board.

Osprey Three-One-November, this is Letopolis Control. State your intent. The air-controller's voice broke with static through the cockpit.

Tyler unclipped the handset above his head, "Control, Osprey Three-One-November, just a simple passenger drop off. We'll be sticking around long enough for our passenger's, uh... business transaction, then heading space-side again." Tyler's explanation was rewarded with two sets of finely manicured nails digging into his shoulders. "Ouch... We're sending you our passenger's registration information now."

Ty nodded, signaling Dru who was standing by to transmit Vanya's info. "Let's hope these codes are worth the price we paid," he quipped, tapping on the data unit.

"What?" Vanya asked, clearly confused by Dru's comment.

Dru looked up to his sister and smirked, "Just something from an old movie, Mei-mei."

Ty held them on course, waiting on the Letopolis air-controller to respond. Osprey Three-One, registration checks out. Transmitting approach vector now. Welcome to Cherti.

"Figured the next time I came here the visit would be more permanent," groaned Dudren, standing up from the console. He watched Letopolis roll below them as his brother maneuvered them to the dockyard.

Tyler's fingers ran across a few switches before grabbing the tubine shift and easing it back. "We ain't left yet." Alice swooped down, her long tail swinging about as her pilot tenderly slid her toward the rolling lights. "Still might be."

"Good point." A smirk pulled up in that bearded cheek. "We ain't even landed yet."

The companion rolled her violet eyes a little, shaking her head. "Is it possible for you boys to ever be positive?"

"You know how he lands."

Giving his brother a little glance, Alice suddenly dropped several hundred feet like a very big, very heavy stone. Dru's seemed unphased by the sudden lurch downward. Vanya gripped Ty's shoulder, nearly falling backward. A string of words unbecoming of a companion poured from her mouth, a sentiment that echoed loudly from the mechanic in the common room.

"Feh feh pi go!" She socked him hard in the shoulder.

"I am positive that was totally worth seeing the look on your face, Mei-Mei." Ty grinned as he set Alice down with all the grace and gentleness of a feather coming to rest on a pillow.

Vanya leaned in closer to him, her breath brushing past his ear in a gentle caress. "Tyler..." She drew his name out with a throaty chuckle. "Have you forgotten that I always get even?"

She lay her hands upon his shoulders again, sliding down to forcefully pinch the backs of his arms. Tyler jerked away from the assault while Vanya slipped out of the cockpit, laughter trailing behind her. Ty looked at his brother as he rubbed his arms, "Still say it was worth it."

"Oh, totally," Dru patted his brother on the shoulder and followed the companion out.

"That went rather well," Jacks met Vanya and Dru in the common room, "I was able to get every thing tweaked just right and she should be good to go for quite a long time."

The companion's eyes sparkled with laughter as she turned to her brother. "We're keeping him, right?"

Durden walked around Jackson, "Well, I've seen you in an engine room, mei-mei." He patted the Alice's grease monkey on the shoulder. "And I think we had better." He smirked as his eyes fell to Jackson. "Nice work, Jacks."

Watching Dru interact with the mechanic, Vanya didn't bother to hide her smile. Whether anyone was ready to admit it or not, Jackson was clearly part of the family. "I'm fabulous everywhere," she responded with a teasing little pout. "Including the engine room."

"And on that note," Jackson grinned as he past the two saluting with two fingers against his eyebrow, "I'm gonna go see a sight I haven't seen in quite a while."

"And that is?"

"My pillow," he grinned, "night folks."

Her chuckle followed him toward the door. "And miss the sights and sounds of Cherti? You must be crazy to sleep at a time like this."

"Well I did get a section eight from the Alliance," his eyebrows arched, "but that was for wearing dresses."

"Stay out of my closet," the companion replied instantly, shaking one delicate finger at him in warning.

With his arms crossed in front of his chest, a smirking Joe walked through that door. "What's all this 'bout Jacks bein' in the closet?" He snorted derisively.

"You can't just walk into the middle of the book that is my life, Joe," Jackson grinned, "you gotta learn the whole story."


Copper strolled into the kitchen from his bunk. "This ship could do with a few more landings like that." The shepherd started to poke his nose about about a few of the cabinets.

"What's the matter, padre?" A smirk came over the grease monkey's face. "Not a fan of the almost flaming landing?" That smirk disappeared behind his fist as it dissolved into a yawn.

"I've been flying with this ship for too many landings," replied Copper with his head in a cupboard. "I only know so many prayers, Jackson."

Jackson turned toward his bunk, but felt a hand on his arm, "Where are you goin' son?"

"To rack out, padre," the mechanic said with a smile, "I'm beat."

"You've been cooped up on this boat for far too long Jacks," the preacher said to him as he patted his shoulder, "the soul needs sunshine and fresh air. I believe it says that somewhere in the good book."

"It does huh?"

"You gonna argue with a Sheppard, son?" Copper laughed, "You could go to hell for that real quick."

"To hell you say?' Jackson laughed as well, "Well then, lead me to the path to redemption."

"That path lead to a decent saloon?" Ty trotted through the steps of Alice's neck, joining nearly her whole crew. He crossed over to the table and informed his brother that they were all set for their stay. The conversation was quiet and, judging by their expression, serious business.

"Well, padre?" The pilot looked up, that wry smile replacing all traces of whatever it was that had been so important. The brothers seemed to have a talent for switching gears.

Copper wasn't quite buying it. He paused. "My recollection was that you didn't plan on setting foot on that ground until they were going to put you in it."

"Man's apt to change his mind now and again. After all," his gaze flashed over to the silken haired companion, "if it works for a lady."

"There are many things that work for me that I'd pay good money to see you try," the companion chuckled. "In fact, I could start compiling a list if you'd like."

"You know," Dru cocked his head back, smirking at his brother, "I'd like to see that too."

He groaned. "I'm sure you would." Tyler disengaged himself from this particular path and steered it back to the original. "So, how about it, Shepherd?"

"The book contains many verses about drink," Copper seemed to relent to the younger man's lighter tone. "Some are more favorable than others."

"Well, then, boys?" Tyler looked to Jacks and Joe. "What say we all write some favorable verses?"

"Sounds like a plan." The mechanic nodded.

"Alright then," Ty smacked the table with the flat of his hand. "Let's go. Joe's paying."

Joelle's arms folded across his chest "Riiiight..." replied the ship's crack electrician with a roll of his eyes. "How much do I get paid again?"

Durden backed in next to the Alice's prodigal daughter. "So," he said, quietly ignoring the rest of the crew. "We ready to meet this terribly important client of yours?" His fingers curled around the lip of the table. "You need to powder your nose first?" His brow furrowed in idle thought. "Should I put on a tie? I'm not sure I own one."

"As much as I'd enjoy the sight of you in a tie, it's not your appearance that matters today." Though a smile curled her lips as she teased her brother, there was a distance in those violet eyes. "I need to make sure I'm presentable." She hesitated for only a moment. "You can come talk to me while I powder my nose."

"Fair 'nuff." He gestured back down the corridor toward the shuttle that served as the Companion's home, sanctuary, and personal transport. "After you."

"My scarlet beauty," the Great Gentleman of Cherti smiled widely as he opened his arms, "It has been far too long."

Dropping Dru's arm, Vanya crossed the flagstone steps and approached the longtime client with a genuine smile. "Samuel." Taking his hands in hers she turned his palms to the sky and placed a gentle kiss on each, greeting him with an affection that went beyond training. "It's an honor to see you again."

"Not as much as it is an honor to have your beauty grace my home," His eyes wandered behind her for a moment, "and who might this strapping young man be?"

Dru paused a moment before responding. He took a step back but gave Mr. Asher a reserved smile, "Just the lady's escort, Making sure she got to her destination on time."

"Well then any friend of our beautiful lady," he smiled at Alice's Co-Captain, "is a friend of mine."

With a gentle smile, Vanya turned back to her brother. "Fang xin, Dru." Her tone was as gentle as a caress. "Thank you for escorting me. I'll send word when I'm ready to return to the ship."

Dru bowed his head to the red headed companion, "Duhn ruhn." Standing, he gave the companion's client one more look then retreated from the room.

Since it would be highly discourteous to watch him leave, Vanya linked her arm through Samuel's and turned her violet eyes on him. "Did I make it in time to see the garden in bloom?"

"Indeed you did, my dear. The weeping cherries are so ripe with blossoms that branches nearly dip into the fountain. One breath of the scent is sure to leave you hopelessly addicted," he answered, a sly twinkle in his steel-gray eyes.

"Then I'm afraid I'll have to take a bouquet with me. You know I won't stay." It was a comfortable game between them and the companion doubted very much that the offer to remain on Cherti was anything more than habit at this point.

"You wound me, Vanya," a smile rose underneath the salt and pepper mustache, "to turn me down before I can even ask. If I didn't know any better, I would think there was another man."

"A woman, actually." An arch smile graced those perfect lips. "She's beautiful and strong. And she takes me to the sky... and beyond." Her violet eyes moved past his to the gray sky that hung overhead as if she could see through the clouds and back out into the black.

"She sounds like quite a lady," The gentlemen nodded, "she would have to be to keep you from staying with me forever."

"She would indeed." Her head leaned against his shoulder as they walked through the arched gate that marked the entrance to his property. "After all, you're nearly as addictive as your garden."

"It's the Eucalyptus."

A low chuckle escaped her lips as took a deep breath. "It is nice." Without missing a step, she placed a kiss on his cheek. "But you're still the most addictive thing on this planet."

---

A soft breeze crested the high wall that surrounded Samuel Asher's property, blowing errant blossoms into the air and tousling Vanya's long hair. The burgundy tresses curled around her bare arms as she leaned in, applying more pressure to her client's shoulders. "You're too tense," she scolded gently.

"Perhaps if you entertained my offer you could keep an eye on me." With opening eyes, Asher turned his head on the pillow. He stole a glance up at the woman who straddled his spine. That smile of his settled into the creases of his face.

"Work," he continued, not giving her a chance to fire back. The word sighed from his lips as that lid settled back over its steel iris. "Lately I fear that alluring oasis that you truly came to visit is the only thing I can cultivate in any way." She could feel those already tight cords in his back tighten. The man groaned softly as her thumbs pressed into the fragrant oils on his skin. "And it's becoming the last bastion of life and color on a land that's only known for its graveyard."

She leaned down lower, silken hair dancing lightly across his skin, paving the path for her fingers to continue their torture. "You are the oasis here," she reminded him gently, frowning as she found more pockets of tension. "However, I do believe I've suggested you move on from here more than once. Cherti can rise into civilization or fall into further chaos without you here."

His brow knit together. "Cherti does not deserve to fall into chaos..." The elder gentleman shifted, propping himself up on his elbow and twisting to look at her. "It is my home, little butterfly." In that moment she could see how those wrinkles in his brow had settled into greater permanence. "If I do nothing, then I'm as culpable as the worst criminal."

Her fingertips brushed across that lined brow. It distressed her to see his age weighing so heavily on him. For the many years he'd been a client, Samuel had always seemed eternal, untouched by time or the conflict around him. Now, it seemed, he wore the effects of both. "But you're not doing nothing."

"No," he closed his eyes at that feathered touch, "not any longer."

With his eyes closed, Vanya didn't have to hide her frown. Switching her attentions, she smoothed her thumbs over his browline, applying gentle pressure to his temples. "It shows." Her tone echoed her touch, gentle yet probing. "Samuel," she touched along his cheekbones then let her fingers rest on his lips, "what have you been doing?"

"Trying to keep the bloodshed to a minimum." His eyes opened and he slid back. She settled over his lap, her thighs hugging his hips. He leaned against the headboard. "I've taken employ with the Nemero Company as a mediator to the community." His sigh was felt more than it was heard. "I'm their salesman..."

"You chose a side?" For a fleeting second her body tensed on his, but she forced it away. "Were things so bleak?"

"Had to." He nodded. "Lesser of two evils for the greater good." He lay his hands on bare knees. They felt harder, rougher than she remembered. "At least this way I can try and help make them better."

Her hands came to rest on his, not guiding but content, for now, to follow whatever path they chose. "If you think that taking Nemero's side will make things better then I believe in you." His hands showed his age, like the rest of his body, but there was still considerable strength there. "I flit through," she smiled, acknowledging his favorite nickname for her, "visiting then moving on. You've rooted yourself here. I just hope Cherti knows what a gem she has in this little garden."

"Well this is a lovely place," Jackson kicked a rock across the street.


"People gotta be buried somewhere," Tyler shoved his hands in his pockets. "War took a toll on everyone Alliance and other. You know that as well as I do."


"Yeah," the mechanic nodded, "Just adds to the overall BWUAGGHHH," he shuddered.


"They're just shells son," the preacher put his hand on Jackson's shoulder, "their spirits are all in a much better place now."


"That's why we have you around preacher," Ty chuckled, "You make us all feel better."

"As much as I love this lively conversation," Joe shook his head, "I need some parts and supplies if I'm gonna make sure Alice's electrical system doesn't go tits up on us, and that we keep food in our bellies."


"Joo how rin," Ty clapped the younger boy on the back, "Gotta keep us flying in more ways than one."

"I'll go with you, Joe." Jackson broke off to follow Joe "You could prolly use a hand and I might need to find a few things for Alice myself."

The fouresome exchanged some plans and money, and the electrician and the grease monkey headed down toward the business district, leaving the pilot and the preacher to their own devices. Tyler pulled his coat tighter to his frame, "Right then, preacher," he looked up the street. "Looks like it's just you and me."

Copper nodded. Shadows draped over his face from the wide brim of the old man's hat. "Any folk you looking to visit?"

"No," he replied flatly. "None that would make much in the way of conversation, that is."

The preacher gripped Ty by the shoulder, "You know they can hear you anyway, son. And sometimes you'll find you can hear them too."

Tyler shrugged off Copper's touch. "Hear'em all the time, Copper. Can't not hear'em. That's the problem."

"Copper?" A voice called out from the other side of the street. "Copernicus Jones?" The other man crossed the street, "Wong ba duhn, I never thought I'd see you again!"


"Warren?" The Sheppard grasped the other man's hand and shook it. "How long has it been?"



"Gotta be seven, no wait, eight years." Warren smiled.

Copper held the man's hand firm, looking him dead on in the eyes as he nodded. "Gotta be."

A smile came to the other man's face. "You don't look like those last eight years treated you any better than the rest of them." A dry laugh that grew into a heavy cough hidden behind a fist.

"Life catches up to you in endlessly surprising ways, but I'm living and doing what good I can with the path I'm on." A small glance tipped to the man in the brown coat beside him. "And whatever flock I help along it."

"Hope that last bit was a general comment, preacher."

Copper Jones chuckled. "Warren, this is Tyler Kokezaru. His ship has been kind enough to help me along." He turned to Alice's pilot, sticking his thumb toward the stranger "Ty, this here gasbag is Warren Cohn. Fellow former grifter."

Warren stuck his hand out. "I prefer reformed grifter." With a bit of a nod, Ty took the man's hand and gave it a pleasant shake. "What say I buy the two of you a beer?"

---

"And I've been here on Cherti ever since." Staring into the frothy contents of his mug, Warren Cohn let go and ran that hand back through his salt and pepper locks. "It may not be the good life, but it's better than a lot of places out here."

"You've done well for yourself, Warren." Copper Jones smiled across the table from Warren Chon. "You should be proud."

"I try. It's not easy. Times are tough all across the black, sure," Warren's expression turned somewhat grim, "but around these parts more so. Ain't easy trying to make a life... here."

"You mean on a grave yard," chimed in Ty who had been rather quiet throughout the catching up between the two men.

Copper chided him for it. "Ty..."

"No," Chon raised a hand, cutting the preacher off from any further reproach. "Let's call a spade a spade. Man's just sayin what he sees and that's as much as most of the verse'll recognize in this place. A tomb."

The man shook his head and took a long pull from his glass. "And no offense, but it was one thing to be laying your people to rest here. It's another when its your friends and neighbors."

"I can see where it would be." The older man nodded.

"In order to carve out this life," the older man took a big swallow from his mug, brushing the sudsy residue from his mouth, "I've had to make certain...concessions."

Alice's two men at the table exchanged a small glance and then looked back to Warren. "Concessions?"

The man nodded. "Ever hear of Cyrus Hettfield?"

"Can't say as I have," Ty leaned in. "but I have a feeling you're gonna tell us about him."

Warren nodded. "He's a local, businessman who has a vested interest in the community. He knows of my past talents and has asked me to do him a favor."

"What kind of favor?" The sheppard's hands folded in front of him.

Warren let go of a chuckle as he took another sip. "Well as the story goes," he took in a heavy "legend has it, .during the war there was a supply ship for the Alliance that went down somewhere on Sturgis..."

"The Rosalee?" Ty interrupted.

"You've heard of it?" The older man smiled.

"Only that it's a ghost story yellow bellies tell each other around the campfire when they wanna scare the Ri shao gou shi bing out of each other." Ty leaned back again.

"Well that may be, but the stories are true." Warren smiled. "And Mister Hettfield has asked me to find it."

"What's the payment for a job like that." Copper said, no expression at all on his face.

"That is a very good question, Copernicus." Warren's face became somber. "Mister Hettfield is a very powerful man on Cherti. He owns a lot of property. One in particular piece is where the orphanage I run sits." He looked down into his empty glass. "I haven't been able to make the payments on the land in months. Somehow ole Cyrus knew what I had been and decided to use it. I've done some very not nice things for him in order to do some very good things." Warren went silent again. His eyes seemed dull slightly. "And now he wants me to become a grave robber."

Copper reguarded his old friend for a few minutes before he spoke again. "Do you know where it is on Sturgis?"

Before the other man could answer, Ty shot the sheppard a sideways glance. "Can I borrow you a moment, Copper?"

The older man nodded and got up to follow Alice's pilot to a quiet corner of the bar.

"What're you playing at here?" His voice was cool and even, though his eyes gave a hint that the inquiry was more than just simple curiosity.

The man's brow creased. "The man is in a situation. He needs help."

"And you aim we should help him with his mess." Tyler shook his head, but he held back the sigh. "I don't like getting into other folk's problems. We carry a heap enough of our own."

"I think we should help those kids stuck in the middle."


Then the sigh came, one of half resignation. "You sure we can trust him, preacher?" Ty's eyes narrowed as he turned back to look at the old man at the table behind them.

Copper nodded. "I've known Warren a long time, son," he placed his hand on Ty's shoulder, "He was a thief, a cheat and a liar. So was I at one point. But I choose to believe in the absolution of the good book." His eyes drifted back to Warren as well. "If this is an act, then it's a damn good one cause he could never fool me like this in the past. No lad, I think he's on the level."

Tyler chewed on the mans words. "I'm not gonna say I like it." His arms closed across his chest as he looked quite plainly at the man seated at their table. "And I don't think I need to tell you what my brother will say."



"You two can call it a marker I'm calling in." The old man smiled, "For that time on Hera."

The preacher's joke did little to lighten the Browncoat's mood, but he nodded. "Alright, old man." That gaze turned onto the Copper. "But we do this our way. I don't want any muscle trying shoehorn the job. And your friend over there stays put."



"I wouldn't have it any other way son." Copper squeezed Ty's shoulder.

Ty nodded. "Then we have a deal." He looked over to the table. "Lets see just what his is."

Durden stood outside the black iron fencing that circled Samuel Asher's lush grounds and large home. He looked back into the city; its stark grays and browns set it apart from the gentleman's home. This was the Cherti he knew, the one he had expected. This was the Cherti he didn't want to land on.

"The things we do..." He groaned and stopped out into the dusty road.

For a moment his footsteps were the only sound in the warm silence. Then, from somewhere past the sprawling grounds of Asher's home, came the soft whir of an engine. Slowly, almost leisurely, the hovering speeder made its way past the gardens and gate until it pulled alongside the figure in the road.

"Afternoon," the driver, a tall thin man with no visible weapons, greeted Dru in a semi-neighborly tone. "Awful long walk back to town..."

"Is it?" Dru looked back along the vehicle's sleek black enclosed chassis. It's grime free cleanliness reeked of money. His eyes flickered over its roof to the buildings behind it and back down. "I hadn't noticed."

The driver nodded sagely. "Don't let the straight path fool you. The road can play tricks on you." The breeze that seemed so delightful back in Asher's garden kicked up again, catching the dust from the road and swirling it through the air. "Aren't many nice days for walking around here."

The Browncoat stopped. His eyes squinted into the sharp orange sunlight. He knew the schpiel. He'd been on this receiving end of "idle chatter" plenty of times to know when somebody wanted something. "A man deals with the path he takes." His head slowly turned, looking the man square on. "However he gets on it."

He slowly drew that coat back, resting his hand on that pistol. "But you didn't roll up on me outta blue to talk about me getting my boots dirty."

"Not entirely," the lanky man replied, looking completely unsurprised at the sight of the weapon. "Though I was instructed to offer you a ride into town. It would keep those boots clean."

"My boots are fine." The sun still glared in his eyes, but at this distance he knew he could put the man down in a word. That was assuming the man was alone. "Besides, I find it's not smart to accept rides from strange men."

If the man was at all put off by Dru's suspicions, it didn't show. "You may have a point there. If it would make you feel better you could keep that gun on me the whole time."

"Like I said," Durden smiled pleasantly, "I feel just fine walking."

The solid black exterior of the car was interrupted as the windows opened. Three men, with guns, mirrored Dru's smile back to him. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to insist you take us up on the offer. Your boots will stay clean and you'll be able to continue feeling 'just fine'."

"I see..." He let his jacket fall back over his holster. "I guess this counters that previous offer..."

---

For a saloon it was surprisingly clean. That may have had something to do with it being slightly off the beaten path of the town's center. And yet, even off the beaten path it seemed to be relatively full. Businesses worked on the same principles as real estate. Location. Location. Location. The only reason for a place like this to be as busy as it was meant that its clientele were just as likely to be working there as drinking. That was enough to give Durden pause as he walked in and felt the slight hush in the general din. As if the men with the guns helping him find his way wasn't enough.

"Nice joint," he looked around casually without the slightest indication of casing the joint. "Love the windows."

His escort gave a shrug, apparently remembering to be hospitable now that they were in the confines of the building. "Oh, it's not much. Just a friendly little place full of friendly people."

"Nothing like a friendly little place at the end of a friendly little ride to set a man at ease," He looked back over his shoulder. "I don't suppose you want to buy me a friendly drink?"

"I certainly do. In fact, why don't you take a seat at that table over there and I'll bring you that drink." He gestured to a table in the far corner. It looked like any other in the modest establishment, expect for the wide space around it. "Go along now. I'll be right behind you."

"You don't say..."

Durden wove his way through to the table. Every man in that room was armed, most doing a poor job of hiding it and some not even trying to. He slid into the chair that set his back to the wall. With still no idea just why he was here it was the closest move to a power play he could make at this point and the only way to make sure that all the guns were where he preferred them: in his face.

His eyes rose to his escort. He stood behind the bar chatting with a woman. The brunette wasn't what one might call tall, but it wasn't the height that had her towering over the driver she was quietly speaking with. It was the way she carried herself, her posture and the way the driver responded with subtle submission. Her amber eyes flashed his direction, and he didn't look away. Clearly, this was the person he had been brought to see.

She left him waiting for several minutes before approaching the table. A drink in both hands, the woman made her way through the saloon with a grace that was undiminished by a subtle limp. "Afternoon," she said, sitting down across from him before handing over the drink. "Welcome to Cherti."

The browncoat took the drink from the table without pause. "Thanks."

His eyes met hers. They were sharp and bright and the subtle crows feet reaching from their edges spoke volumes. There was wisdom and grace in how she held herself, power too. He was struck with the notion that had her life turned a different direction, one closer to the core, she might have been quite beautiful.

"I have to say," he lifted the glass and drank from it, "if this is how all the visitors to your planet are greeted than I'm not surprised that tourism here hasn't taken off like a stage two rocket."

"We'll have to work on that. Or we would if I thought you were any sort of tourist," she answered with a completely unapologetic smile. Taking a long drink, she watched him over the rim of her glass before setting it aside to extend her hand. "Leslie Nemero," she introduced herself. "But people 'round here just call me Les."

Durden matched her smile with a thin pleasantry. "Dru." He took her hand firmly, pausing with it only a moment before letting it go.

"So," He settled back in his chair, not taking his eyes off her despite all the others around them taking great interest in their table. "if I'm no sort of tourist, what sort of a person am I that a lady such as yourself wants to pull this stranger off the road. Awful lot of fuss to buy a guy a drink."

Les nodded slowly, weighing his words as if they were something she needed to consider. "I'm still working on that." She took another drink then began to list off the points she had so far. "You've got a ship and a fairly talented pilot. Or a crazy one. After watching your landing I'm still undecided. But you also felt the need to escort a companion to a meeting with a client, an associate of mine." Her shoulders rose then fell in a little shrug. "And you don't seem overly concerned to be drinking with me."

"Ever met a pilot that didn't think they were talented?" Dru smirked, taking a drink from his glass. "I know I've never met one that wasn't crazy. What you don't want is a pilot that is stupid. And there's a difference."

Draining his glass, Durden pondered its empty contents a moment, "And I don't know you from eve to be concerned." He set the it down, its heavy bottom scraping across the wood as it slid to the middle of the table. "But let me tell you what I figure."

"You own this place. You quite possibly own this town, or would like to." His eyes met hers. "Your "associate" is really your subordinate, but you're too coy to be so forward. You like to use your power wisely but don't flaunt it when you don't need to." He could feel the hush that had rolled out under his almost cheeky brashness. "In fact, there's not a head in this room that doesn't work for you sans the one on my shoulders. Of course you're looking to see if that's something worth changing. Because, while you've got some strong roots in the soil of this graveyard, your reach isn't so good off planet and there's something you need that you can't get here."

He broke his gaze with her in favor of the barkeep. "How am I doin so far, Les?" Lifting the little glass, he its emptiness.

She inclined her head toward him in a crooked little nod. "Fair enough," she answered. Leaning back in her chair, she stretched her long legs out under the table. "I would like to own this town. Though 'own' is such a coarse word. Maybe 'run' would be a better choice."

"Hey, your town," he set the glass back down, "you can call it what you want. I'm just passing through it."

"It will be my town. And it will be more than just a graveyard." Her gaze drifted away from his face to dusty windows and the dusty streets outside. When she finally returned her attention to Dru, she was smiling faintly. "Provided I can hire you to help with that off planet bit of the story."

"You're starting to get my attention." He leaned back in his seat, giving a little look across the faces that clearly were listening to everything they were saying. Durden didn't care. This wasn't his secret. "Keep talking."

Les nodded but took her time in speaking. "I'm biased, but I like to think I have my town's best interests at heart. Others..." She shrugged and set her glass aside, ready to truly get down to business. "Others disagree. I could live with that, but the disagreements have gotten... ugly. People are getting hurt."

"Shame when people get hurt." He took to toying with his empty glass a little. He could feel this conversation touching a slight nerve. "One would think that people around here would have a rather unique perspective on that sort of ugliness."

Her gaze hardened. "When people make up their minds to be ugly, no perspective can change it." She raised her hands, showing him weathered palms. "I'm no saint. I've done my share of ugly, but it's not what I want. I want the fate of this town settled, no more arguing back and forth. If a fast ship and a strategic cargo pickup can help me get there..."

"Then it's worth every penny to bring that simple change in point of view." He stared back at her with cool, hazel eyes. His tone was as light as a feather, the bargaining chip he had in his hand: the impression that he couldn't care less.

She nodded. Clearly she had expected no less. "Of course I'm prepared to pay. I'm sure we can some to some sort of agreement on what's fair."

"...and so that's the whole thing." Tyler sighed as he, Copper, Jackson and Joe walked back up the dusty road to back to Alice.

"We sure we can trust him?" Joe said as he shifted the weight of the sacks of supplies he held in his arms.

The old preacher placed a hand on Joe's shoulder. "I trust Warren, is that enough lad?"

The young electrician looked up at Copper. "Not really," Joe smiled, "but it'll do."

"It's gonna be tough to find." Jackson said as they started to walk up Alice's loading platform. "People have been looking for that since the end of the war with no success. It'll be like finding a needle in a haystack, hidden in another haystack, hidden in a gorram world of hay. Hell, I doubt the damn thing didn't get atomized when it crashed, or else the Alliance woulda found it by now."

"I love your optimistic nature," Joe smirked.

"It is one of my more attractive features." The mechanic smirked back.

"Notwithstanding," Ty said as he crossed the room to the staircase in Alice's belly. "We need to at least try to find it. And besides, who ever said the Purplebellies would be smart enough to find it?"

Jackson cocked his head to one side as he stared at Ty.

"Present company excluded of course." Ty smirked.

"Of course."

"Jackson does bring up a good point."[copper] The preacher said as he followed Ty up the steps. [copper]"If this ship was so loaded down with weapons and such, why wouldn't the Alliance go looking for it?"

"With as much pollution and other wreckage as there is on Sturges, it's prolly damn near impossible to find with sensor sweeps."

"Hence the hay." Jackson smirked.

"Everybody and their brother have been looking for that pot of gold." Dru had emerged in Alice's cargo hold. Vanya was beside him. "For years."

"Word travels fast." Ty leaned over the railing, looking down. "Where did you hear?"

"That offer you got to find The Rosalee?" His brother nodded. "They're not the only ones on this rock interested in finding it."

"Why am I not surprised?" Ty pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't suppose we could just tell them all to gun hoe-tze bee dio-se and dust off this rock, could we?"

"We could do that, I suppose."

"But we're not going to, are we?" Ty shook his head. "This is a bad scene. Likely to get a whole lot of folks killed. Us included."

"In the middle of a bad situation," his eyes rolled as he jammed his thumb against the bay door control and the ship sealed herself up, "same story, different job."

The companion laid a gentle hand on his back. "Well, at least you're well versed in navigating such situations." She smiled.

Ty snorted. "Always seems that way, don't it mei-mei." His eyes traveled over the cargo hold, over every stain, scratch, and chip he knew by heart. "I just hope you're not around to see what happens when our course goes awry."

He turned and headed forward to the cockpit.

"Well he's all with the pleasant mood." Jackson flopped onto one of the couches.

"You get used to it." Durden and Vanya joined the others outside the kitchen.

He watched the empty door his brother had disappeared through for a moment, clearly mulling over several unspoken options and finding them none of them pleasant. He lifted his feet like they were heavy, filled the cockpit entrance, but didn't pass through the threshold.

"You want to walk away from this," he asked, folding his arms across his chest.

Ty didn't turn away from the command console. "I believe it's already on record that I didn't want to be here at all. Too much goes wrong around here for my tastes."

"Something to be said for making the best out of a bad situation." He leaned against the hull. "We're not exactly swimming in work here."

"No," Tyler spun his seat around to face his brother. "No we're not. But this... I dunno. I just have a bad feeling about this one, Dru. The way I see it, there's nothin' to be gained on this job. There's only one reason folks want a load of weapons like that and it ain't to become shiny happy neighborly."

Durden was quiet. His fingers rubbed through he beard on his cheeks. The one thing they would get out of this, and that was only if they helped Les Nemero, would be money. Neither of them were going to say that.

Now the over the years, the two of them did a lot of jobs that most in their line of work didn't have the stomach for. They never did it for the money. They did it to keep Alice running, to keep themselves free. Right now, though, it was hard to ignore the costs they had taken to do just that.

"Hardly the first time we've sat at the table between two devils. Won't be the last. Those fowk ain't shiny, happy, or neighborly now and they ain't going to be whether we do this or not." His eyes flickered out the reinforced aluminum silicate glass. "Hell, they'll just wait for the next ship to land."

Dru looked at his brother. "You want to stop making this to be about helping put holes in each other?"

Tyler looked around the cabin, everywhere except at his brother. They finally settled somewhere on the deck plating between the two men. "Lotta memories buried here on Cherti, Dru. But the dead I can deal with well enough. And now we're heading off to Sturges... memories there ain't neither dead nor buried."

He sighed, finally meeting Durden's eyes. The trip to Regina had taken a lot more out of the ship than most folks knew, and if it weren't for the fact that Alice was, in some places, literally being held together with chicken wire and bubble gum, he'd certainly put in his vote to walk. But Dru was right, they'd been in the shallow end of the work pool for too long. If they didn't work, they didn't fly, and if they didn't fly...

"We'll do this. But don't expect me to be all sunshine and happiness until we put this job to bed."

"Expect it? If you were I'd be worried." Dru straightened. "Get us up. Once we're off this rock we'll figure out what to do."

---

The rumble of slipping from Cherti's grasp died away and the stars went from fuzzy dots to sharp pinpoints. Double-checking that their course was locked in the navcomp, Tyler pushed out of his seat and headed down the small passageway that lead to the main common room. Everyone was there, and everyone, except Dru, was looking at him as though the fuse had already been lit and were just waiting around for the big boom.

"What?" Ty said, pulling out a chair and flopping down in it. "I'm not allowed a bad mood every now and then."

[joe]"Bad mood?"[/joe] Joe piped up, [joe]"I'd call it downright pissy."[/joe]

"Language, young man." Copper reprimanded.

[joe]"Sorry, Shepherd."[/joe]

"That's right, Joe," the companion smiled sweetly, "it's not a polite turn of phrase." Vanya batted her lashes at Tyler, "Even if it is true."

"Et tu, Mei-Mei?"

Durden sat down, sliding a glass of amber liquid over to his brother. "As we're really not here to discuss the amount of sand in Ty's shorts, what say we get to planning?"

"I do want to make it known that there will be no end to the I told you so's."

Dru merely shrugged, while Vanya asked of Copper, "Where's the tally stand right now, Copper?"

The weathered minister tapped his stubbled chin, his eyes traveling to the ceiling. "Oh I reckon it's about fifty-fifty."

"As much as I love having the money to buy new parts for our girl." Jackson walked in from the engine room, wiping his hands on an already greasy rag. "I have to agree with Ty. Something smells like a Reaver's backside about this."

"There's two..."

"I can count the number of jobs this boat has run that didn't smell like rotten fish on one of Calvin Woonsan's hands." Durden tipped the neck of the bottle over his glass and filled it three fingers worth. He gave his brother a look and walked around the table. "Fishy alone ain't been reason to walk away from a paying gig before."

Joe scratched the back of his head. "Calvin Woonsan?"

The pilot scowled at his brother a moment. "Calvin was a trooper in Dru's brigade long wile back, early in the war."

"And?"

Ty's expression had turned up in a wry smirk. "He was in their BSU."

Reading the expression on the young electrician's face, Durden clarified, "Bomb Squad Unit." There was a dry chuckle as he set the bottle down in front of him. "Calvin wasn't so good at his job..."

The Shepherd was less amused. "And that's funny?"

Durden lifted his glass. He held it over a cooler expression for a moment. "Is if you knew him, preacher." He took a pull from the glass.

"'Course he's not telling you that good ol' Calvin only had one hand." Tyler smirked. "And he could only count to three unless he took off his boots."

"How did the Alliance not win the war sooner?" Jackson smirked as a muttered under his breath.

The bearded Kokezaru set his glass down. "Certainly says something about them, dontcha think?"

"Touché." Jackson nodded.

"Moot point now," Durden slid a glass across the table to where the grease monkey was preparing to drop himself. "Issue remains about what we're doing here and now."

"Some issues can afford to wait." The companion's violet gaze traveled between the brothers. "One decision at a time. Are the winds filling our sails for Sturgess or are we heading the opposite direction?"

"Unless they've managed to move the rock, or someone's been mucking with our nav settings, we're headed there." Ty grunted.

"Okay," Jacks said as he tilted the glass back, "Joe and I can prolly get to work on some kind of scanning equipment. Something to help us find this needle in a haystack made of needles."

"At least you're staying positive son." Copper nodded, with a smile.

"Always preacher," Jackson smiled as he tiled the glass again, "always."

Dru reached into his coat and retrieved a disc in a clear, thin box. Setting it on the table he slid it across and right into the Mechanic's palm. "That's what we've got from the Nemero crew. It's full of holes and stories, but," his greenish brown eyes looked to Alice's resident shepherd, "maybe with a whatever you got from your con friend in a pickle-"

"Warren."

The bearded man pointed a finger. "Him." He looked back at Jacks. "Doubt we'll get a whole picture out of it all, but maybe we can start getting enough pieces of the puzzle together to cut down on the time we spend chasing our tails and digging up dry wells."

Copper pulled a similar disk out of out of his jacket pocket. "Here ya go son."

"Great," Jackson laughed, "This should keep us busy for a while."

"Something has to keep you out of trouble." The old man smiled.

"Lio coh jwei ji neong hur ho deh yung duh buhn jah j’wohn." Jackson swore as he yanked his bleeding hand away from the electronics it was in moments before. He sucked on the finger as he looked down angrily at the evil piece of electronics. He had been working for days to get the thing to work and work correctly and it just wasn't cooperating.

Can prolly get to work on some kind of scanning equipment. He grumbled to himself as he as he wrapped a greasy rag around his bleeding finger. Might as well have just said I could find the Earth that was. He picked back up the sautering gun and went back to work with a heavy sigh.

"How I'm gonna do this gorram thing I'll never know."

Jacks looked back down at his hand, the blood soaking through the rag heavily. "Fine." He stood up giving the piece of equipment another dirty look as he headed out to the lounge and first aid.

He walked into Alice's little kitchen and shoved his hand under the tap. The ship was quiet. Most of the other members of the crew were asleep in their bunks. This was the time Jackson liked the most. Only the hum of the engine, his engine. It seemed to settle his nerves hearing the low hum. He looked down at his hand. The blood still flowed from his sliced finger.

"Jackson?" Sitting in the corner, a soft velvet blanket pulled around her shoulders and a delicate glass vial resting on the table in front of her, the diminutive companion made her presence know to the distracted mechanic. "What did you do this time?"

Jackson jumped, water from the tap splashing all over him and the counter.

"You scared the hell out of me." He said breathing heavily as he turned of the tap and rewrapped his finger.

Her chuckle warmed the room. "I am sorry." Those violet eyes sparkled as she reached out to remove her little bottle from view. "And a little insulted. I'm not accustomed to men being able to walk past me without at least noticing me."

Jackson echoed her laughter. "Then let me apologize," he bowed his head, "and promise I will never ignore you again."

"Much better." She held out her free hand and beckoned him closer. "Now get over here and let properly wrap that."

Jackson sat down on the opposite side of the table from Vanya and held his hand out across the table. "That huen dahn of a new sensor I'm working on for the boys decided to bite me."

With skill born from entirely too much practice, Vanya wound a clean cloth around his finger. "Well you are tasty," she teased, tying off the bandage. "But maybe this is a sign that you need to take a break. Even you can't work nonstop."

The sides of Jackson's mouth curled up. "Well you know how hard it is to say no to the boys. Besides, who knows what we're gonna end up against and we need all the edge we're gonna get."

"That's true on any given day." She drew her hands back from him, letting them come to rest in her lap. Her fingers traced the smooth glass of the bottle in her lap as she considered the issue of saying no to the boys... or keeping things from them. "I'm sure you'll be able to come up with something amazing."

"You have a lot of faith in me." Jackson grinned. "And we just met."

The companion gave a shrug, doing her best to keep a straight face. "Well you do manage to keep the ship in one piece. Most of the time."

"Hey!" Jackson said retrieving his hand, the smile staying on his face. "You can't blame me for that, they haven't had a decent mechanic in here in..." he gave it a lot of thought, "I don't even know when. It's gonna take a while to get her working at top form again."

His words brought a sad twist to her smile. "The same could be said for most of us. But since no one has fallen out of the sky yet..."

"I wouldn't joke about that." Jackson laughed. "There's a floor panel in the hold missing a few rivets, might just step on it too hard and off you go."

"So if I ever feel the need to get rid of anyone..." She joined him in his laughter.

"That would be the prime spot." Jackson nodded.

The glint of wickedness in the companion's violet eyes was not altogether faked. "If only I'd known about it sooner. So many wasted opportunities."

"You scare me." The mechanic eyed the companion.

The two went silent for a few moments. Both not really talking, the hum of the engine filling the room again. Jackson's eyes landed on the small glass phial in her lap. "This may be rude," the mechanic said finally, "but what's in the phial?"

Slowly, almost reluctantly, Vanya set the small glass bottle on the table between them. "The end of a tradition," she told the mechanic. "And a bit of mail that I'm not entirely certain my brothers will be thrilled about." She tapped a fingernail against the stopper on the phial, shaking her head a little. "Apparently, Samuel is a regular enough client that Shinon felt comfortable in sending a rather personal package to him."

"That doesn't sound good." He said leaning forward and looking closer into the phial.

"It's not dangerous." The companion shook her head, auburn tresses falling across her face. "It's..." She took the phial from the table and held it up between them so that the fine gray powder inside caught the light. "It's my father. Actually, all my male ancestors. All the worthy Jahnatts stretching back for countless generations. Unfortunately, the line stops with my father. The poor man died without a son."

"I..." Jackson stammered not really knowing what to say, "I didn't know. I'm sorry."

With another sad smile, Vanya set the bottle on the table once again. "Don't be. Despite my tragic gender, my father had a good life. I doubt very much that he's complaining. He's been alone for too many years. Now he's with my mother again." She shrugged and pulled her feet up beneath her in her seat, wrapping the blanket a little tighter around her delicate frame. "I imagine this means I've inherited the family estate as well. Not that I plan to return to Bellerophon anytime soon."

Jackson nodded. "I haven't been on a civilized planet in," he stopped to think, "well let's just say it's been a while."

Jackson rubbed his eyes and sighed. "We're all bit damaged on this boat." He laughed mirthlessly. "I haven't spoken to the admirals since I resigned my commission."

"Do you think you ever will?" She leaned her cheek against the soft velvet of her blanket.

Jackson shrugged. "I don't know. Probably some day, but...well the war ripped a lot of families apart.

The companion nodded and placed a hand over his. "I spent a lot of time living in a someday. I think I'm done with it." Her violet eyes caught his as a genuine smile began to tug at her lips. "And the thing is, when a family gets ripped apart... sometimes a new one is formed without you even knowing it."

Jackson snorted. "You know my first week here I almost got shoved out the airlock right?"

"I'm sure it was a love shove."

Jackson's head rocked back with laughter. "Yes of course."

"I will say though," he said, his laughter dying out, "it does seem like they will do almost anything for their friends."

A frown creased the redhead's flawless brow. "Very true. So, hypothetically speaking of course, if you were an overprotective brotherly sort who had an inclination to shoot people who threatened your sister figure... would you be concerned about a package that found its way to your sister?"

"Hypothetically," Jackson smirked, "I prolly would be. Is it something they should worry about?"

Vanya sighed, running a hand through her hair. "The part of my brain that thinks like they do likes to point out that if my mail can find me through Samuel then someone properly motivated could certainly do the same."

"Vanya," Jackson leaned in, "they are going to want to know they, we want to be able to protect you."

She watched him for a moment then smiled. "Thank you, Jackson. I'll find the time to tell them," she promised, reassuring him without being too specific.

"I wouldn't wait too long," he grinned, "they tend to throw people out of airlocks for that."

Sitting in the chair beside him, Dru watched his brother as he piloted Alice through the black. The Osprey made its fluid path around the rusty marble below, but the man at the helm wasn't looking at Ezra. His attention was focused on the steely skyplex that floated in orbit.

Ty's eyes rolled over to look at the other Kokezaru. "You know they can see us."

"Ships fly on and off this planet," Durden replied. "Niska isn't looking for us, isn't interested in us. We're nobody headed to a remote part of the planet..."

The pilot said nothing, the pair just looking at each other for a still moment. In that silence he could read his brother like book. With all the rumors that swirled out of the Battle of Sturges you could be damn sure that any ship landing around there would draw some amount of interest from Adelai Niska, Ezra's defacto governor.

Of course, on the ground the only real law was the man left standing.

"Just... fly casual."

"And unclench."

Sitting behind and between the brothers, one hand draped over each of their shoulders, Vanya was the only one watching the planet. It was one of the least lovely destinations they'd ever approached, and she stared across the expanse of the planet as if she could find the stain of Sturges from this height.

"Such an inviting place." Jackson said as he looked at the dust ball. "So what or who is in the space station."

"You know that monster that hid in your closet or under your bed when you were a kid?" Ty asked without look back. He jerked his chin in the direction of the skyplex, "The fellow that runs this place is who that monster was hiding from."

"That makes me feel all shades of pleasant." Jackson shuddered.

Dru steepled his fingers between the armrests of his chair and leaned against them. "Niska doesn't believe in the buried treasure any more than the Alliance does." It wasn't really the truth, and he knew it, but he sold it anyway. "He's a confidant old man with all the resources a bloodthirsty mad man could want for. As far as he's concerned, if it were there he'd have found it by now.

So, we're just shopping for cattle," he said. "Just like every other transport that dares to land here."

"I think Joe and I should have the new sensor array on line too." He pulled himself from the wall and stepped further into the cockpit. "Once we land shouldn't be nothin' to attach her to the dormouse and give us the eyes we need."

Ty shifted the controls, sending Alice into a graceful arc and roll into their approach vector. "Whatever manages to get us off this rock the fastest..."

Durden popped the lock on his chair and pushed it's swiveling arm back. "That's your response to everything." He looked up to Vanya and Flashed her a wink.

"And?"

"I believe you're brother is saying that you worry too much." Jackson said with a bit of a laugh. "On a planet where the bogeyman is in the sky, the ground is the only safe place."

Tyler grunted, "Not here it ain't."

They broke through the bottom cloud layer, but that was as close to the ground as Tyler would take the Looking Glass. After a while he pointed towards a dark patch on the horizon, "There's our happy hunting grounds. Sturges... or what's left of it."

The only real city ever to be built on Ezra, Sturges was now little more than a scabrous pile of twisted metal and concrete marring the landscape. A new settlement had sprung up on the outskirts of the ruined city, and it was outside this, that Tyler set Alice down in a billow of dust.

"Alright," as Alice cooled down, Durden jabbed the ship's intercom with a thumb. "Joe? Let's get the mouse prepped." He looked back over his shoulder to where Jackson was already heading for the doorway. "Get your gear and meet us out back. We'll put it on the ground and get to work. I hope you've got what you need. I don't think we're gonna find much in the way of supplies in town."

He looked back outside. The small town sat far enough in the distance that the small buildings barely stood taller than the heard of cattle that was being rustled between them. "I don't think this is the place we wanna get stranded for parts."

---

Tyler sat in the cockpit of the dormouse, going over the pre-flight check for the third time when a rooster tail of dust from the direction of Enola caught his eye.

"Da-shiang bao-tza shr duh lah doo-tze! Dru, we got company!" Tyler exchanged his datapad for his sidearm and headed out the hatch.

Joe stuck his head out from the open panel in the dormouse's floor. "Problem?"

The cabin was already empty.

Hearing the quick trotting of feet down the gangplank Jackson's head jutted out from under the shuttle's belly, where he had been attaching the array to the wires Alice's young electrician had been feeding him. "Problem?"

Durden stood beside the ship, leaning against the dormouse's nose. "When isn't there?"

Squinting into the dirty cloud that was now rising high into the air ahead of them he could make out two horses flanking a mule bike. "We have ourselves a welcoming party." The sun hit one of the mounted riders with a familiar glint of almost blue light. A Herkimer carbine rifle.

Dru tucked his brown coat behind the hilt of his peacemaker. "It don't look much like they're bringing us muffins."

"That's a shame," Jackson said glumly, "I would kill for a muffin right now."

"Really thinkin' now's not the best time to use the k word." Joe's heavily muffled voice filtered through the ship between them.

"Can't be anything we can't handle." He grinned.

"Famous last words." The boy grumbled.

Following Tyler down the gangplank, though with far more grace, Vanya hugged a shawl around her shoulders as she watched the dust rise. "Well that didn't take long.".

"Not much to hide a boat outside of town on flat land like this." The clean shaven Kokezaru, looked her way. "I count us lucky if this is all the attention we warrant while we're here."

They were closer now. "I count four."

"Right."

Though it sounded like an agreement, Dru knew his brother was calling sides. If things got hairy, it was always good to be sure you weren't shooting at the same man. He slipped a hand under his coat and drew his other pistol. "Jackson." He dropped it behind him onto the dusty ground and slid it back with his heel.

Jackson looked down at the gun in the dusty ground, and then to the back of Dru's head. His eyes then connected briefly with Vanya before he pulled his Python 6 LG from it's holster on his hip and shrugged at her.

With just the hint of a smile, the companion knelt to retrieve the gun. Crossing her arms over her chest, she tucked the weapon into the silk of her clothing and decided not to mention that if it actually did become necessary she'd be using her own gun. "Boys."

Jackson's eyes then turned toward their guests. "Four on four." He muttered as he walked up to Dru. "Even odds, but I don't think startin' this excursion with a blood bath is an alltogether brilliant idea."

"Ain't our plan. Ain't looking for a fight," Dru said, his eyes still trained on the visitors, "but I've been shot at enough to know I'd rather be prepared."

The rumble of hooves was upon them, falling into a slow trot in a low cloud of dry soil. The mule between the horses came to a stop with the choke of an old motor thick with dust. The rifleman's mount backed up with a few steps with a snort of its own.

"Afternoon, gentlemen." Dru spoke before any of them could. He looked from the Herkimer up to the polished silver star pinned to the man's vest. A cursory glance to the others found the driver and the other mounted rider similarly emblazoned. The mule's passenger was hidden behind the glare of of the windshield, but the math was enough.

They were Lawmen, and Ezra was famously lawless. The only law around here was the gun, doubly so since the war. Niska floating above, keeping any sort of order even the Alliance might bring at bay only made matters worse.

The mule's driver rose, revealing a double barrel shotgun. He leaned on the windshield.

Durden's arm hung beside his sidearm. "Something we can do you for?"

"You can go home." The driver, clearly a man of few words, turned his head slowly to meet Durden's face. His eyes, like his voice, were tired but he continued to lean against the windshield as if expecting them to comply as soon as the wisdom of his words sunk in.

"Now, that ain't friendly." Dru stared at the man. He gave him a smile that was pleasant enough. "We're not here to cause you no trouble. We just."

"We know why you're here." The mounted deputy on the left spoke tersely. "You can pack up and head out." His thumb clicked back the hammer of his pistol. "Or you can find trouble whether you're lookin' for it or you ain't..."

Durden's eyes narrowed. "Not sure where that hot tongue is comin' from, but I assure you we got no designs on you or your town. We'll be on our way before you know it." His fingers graze the handle of his Peacemaker. "And I would take it as a kindness if you ease up on that iron."

The driver sighed, a dusty exhale that seemed to quiet the area more than shouts. Or shots. "You'll be on your way now." His gaze traveled Alice's less than mint condition lines then, very deliberately, he turned his head to the tall, weathered trees that stood not far from the landing point. "We've seen more of our share of folks with no designs on our town. Hung more than a few of them right over there."

"Lovely place this." Jackson muttered to Vanya as he rubbed his neck.

The companion gave him a quick 'shhh' then leaned a little closer to whisper, "I'm sure it's not the worst you've seen."

"Remind me to tell you about the moon where they juggle geese." He winked.

Tyler stepped up next to Dru. "We were hired to do an aerial survey of the ruins," he lied, "with any luck this is only contact with the ground our folks will need to be requirin'."

The man on the mount laughed. "Hired? Hired by who." He leaned over on his horse. "Alliance got no interest in this place 'n any thing or one on it no more."

Ty fixed the rider with a steely gaze. "As I don't see any authority about you other than that burner you're itchin' to use, I can't see how it's any of your gorram business. If our employer," Ty's eyes flicked briefly to the sky above, "didn't see fit to notify the locals... well, that's not really our problem is it?"

It was a bluff, one Ty hoped they wouldn't call. He watched the mounted lawman on the right. He clearly looked nervous at the implication. A feeling of relief had almost begun to settle in when the driver of the mule spoke.

"This badge is all the authority we need." He flicked the silver star on his chest. "And as such we've seen every ship that's paid a visit to these grounds; that includes the devil above. Niska's done his speculatin' and moved on. And never once did his people bring a lady." He shook his head, cocking the shotgun in his hands. "Now we've asked you nice. We ain't going to ask you again."

"And if you raise that there shot gun I promise you there won't be any hangings, but there will a few fresh holes to dig." Durden's hand was on his pistol, but kept it in its holster. "We've been polite and considerate, but you're testing my patience. Would've been nice and easy to put you lot down while you came up, but that's no way to make friends. You don't know me from Adam, but I tell you now as you sit there on your horse... you don't not wanna be friends right now."

There as a cold silence there in the dusty field. It hung there for a moment before being broken by a low, almost gravely laugh. "I'll be a goddamned Ai Chr jze se Duh Fohn Diang Gho..."

The man seated beside the driver gripped the lip of the windshield that blocked him from view and pulled himself up. He was an older man, his dark hair cropped short to mask his balding faded right into the salt and peppered beard. On his left the sleeve of his coat hung loose and empty. His lip curled in a thin grin as he looked at Looking Glass' crew. "The Kokazaru brothers..."

Durden blinked. "Wong ba Duhn..." His hand fell off his pistol.

"What?" The mechanic's hand itched the butt of his gun. "Is this a good Wong ba Duhn or a bad Wong ba Duhn? And why do I feel like I need a scorecard."

The man in the mule stepped out onto the ground. He was a bit on the tall side and a little stocky, the way a man tended to get when he let himself go a little with age. He stepped out into the middle of their circle and surveyed Alice and then her crew.

"And this is your bird..."

Dru walked toward him, shaking his head. There was a tense moment of quiet then the two clapped an arm around each other, laughing. "Captain Doyle," he said, shaking his head and stepping back an arms length, gripping the older man by the shoulder. "What the hell are you doing on this godforsaken rock?"

"War's done, sergeant. Just Wen now. Though," he tapped the golden star on his coat, "Sheriff will do, if you can't let go of the formality."

Vanya hid a smile as she leaned over to whisper to Jackson again. "In case you're still wondering, that was a good Wong ba Duhn."

"I figured that part out thanks." Jackson rolled his eyes. "So, I take it you know each other?"

"You could say that." Dru was grinning at the man. "This old buzzard was my commanding officer for a good part of the war." He looked off to the wreckage of what was once the planet's capital. "Including a rather ugly stint here..."

"Yeah, I heard about what happened here." Jackson heaved a heavy sigh.

"Wasn't pretty."

"Wasn't much about the war that was," Tyler said, gripping the man's hand warmly. "Though I do recall with some fondness your ugly mug working a search and rescue mission for a certain downed flyboy."

"Not much choice in the matter." The older man's scarred face turned up in a rather lopsided smile. "I had a good sergeant who was planning on running one by himself, orders be damned. Couldn't let one of my decent men going off half cocked and getting himself killed."

"I appreciate that."

Doyle nodded, turning back to the mule. "Why don't we take this pow-wow back to town." He shuffled back toward his ride, now showing the slightest limp. "I can get you all a little hot meal and a drink, and you all can share with me just what it is you're really doing outside of my town."

---

Raucous laughter echoed throughout the small saloon in what had been a near continuous roll since the sheriff and Alice's crew arrived. Food and drink flowed freely on a river of memories that had nearly unrestrained laughter bubbling from Vanya and had Joe hanging with rapt glee on the edge of every word.

"So then these two," Doyle waved a hand between Ty and Dru, "tear off chasin' a squad of purple bellies down this narrow ravine, hollerin' like a couple of maniacs."

Doyle starts to chuckle so much, he has to stop his tale. He downs his laughter along with a shot of whisky before he can go on. "Anyway, they come around this blind corner and what do they find waiting for them?"

Another shot glass slams down on the table, "A whole gorram regiment is what."

"Sounds like the two Sa Gwas I hooked with." Jackson ran his hand through his closely cropped hair. He laughed as he took another shot.

Resting her cheek against delicately folded hands, Vanya's eyes sparkled as she watched the table. No matter what the reason, or how random the circumstances, it felt good to see the twins laugh. It hadn't happened enough lately. Reaching out under the table, she hooked her foot behind Dru's leg. The story telling would come to an end soon enough.

Durden's eyes rolled over to Vanya's and she smiled back, a couple vibrant curls dropping in front of her cheek. His own smile was hidden behind the rim of his glass as he drank.

"So," he took a deep sighing breath as he leaned back in his chair and dropping his emptied glass heavily on the table, "Sheriff Doyle..."

Across the table the older man's face turned up in a half smirk. He shook his head just a little, as if he'd heard that tone a hundred times before.

Durden gave the waitress a pleasant smile as she refilled his glass from an opaque pitcher. "Sounds to me like you've had a bit of trouble dealing with treasure hunters. Enough trouble that you and your band of merries over there," he gave a jog of the head toward the bar where two of their greeting party still stood, "felt the need to come down with a greetin' party armed to the teeth."

The old soldier grunted. "We've had every rotten bastard in the black come down this way, trying to scavenge what they can from that gorram war." He shifted, leaning over the table on his elbows. "These are good, hardworking folk, and the spoils of war ain't no basis for tourist trade we don't want. Pirates and brigands and every manner a' wei shian dohn wu."

Doyle's gaze drifted away from the table. He looked over the handful of people that sat in the tables around them. "When their prospecting comes up empty they come to town and take out their frustrations on my people." He picked up his drink. but didn't drink it. "In bits and pieces we've rebuilt this whole town three times over in the past seven years..."

Vanya's head inclined slightly, watching Doyle as he watched his people. "Three times. That says a lot for the resiliency of your town, Sheriff." Her lips curled in a smile. "Of course, if there were any truth to the rumors about treasure, you'd have used it to help with the rebuilding."

He nodded. "We looked a few times ourselves." He looked her in the eyes. His hand absentmindedly rubbed the empty left sleeve of his jacket. "There's no hidden treasure, just the remnants of a bloody war. But if you know people, you know there's no tellin' them. All they hear is how it ain't been found yet."

"Or worse, I imagine." She didn't look away as his hand traveled over the ghost of his arm. "Any denial from you just makes them certain that you're the one's who've found it and hidden it from them. All the more reason for them to take their anger out on your town." She paused and reached for her glass, holding it near her lips in a small toast. "It makes the fact that you stay all the more impressive."

"Yeah," Jackson nodded, "for what you have here, you've really made a good home here."

Doyle laughed derisively, "This place is a piece of gossa, son," he took a long pull off ale from his glass, "we're falling apart at the seams here, but we're doing everything we can to make this place a home." He looked around at the people in the bar again. "The worst part is what's in the sky." His voice was nothing more than a whisper.

Both the Kokezaru brothers both nodded with recognition.

"The sky?" Jackson questioned in the same quiet tone that Doyle spoke in.

Doyle nodded, but didn't say anything. He took another pull from his drink.

"We'll explain later." Dru said with a look that told Jacks that he should leave it alone.

Jackson nodded. "Hooo-kay," Jackson took another swig. "So if you all have looked for the load before," he said changing the subject "any suggestions of where not to look?"

The old war horse laughed. "Every where. I'm telling you. There is nothing there. It's a gorram legend, son."

"Hrm..." Durden looked down into the circle of his glass at its contents. His face reflected back at him in its dark brown liquid. "We've got reason to think otherwise."

Doyle looked across the table. "Do you now." His tone was a little cooler than it had been just seconds ago.

Dru nodded. "We've compiled some... information at the behest of a few independent sources, and it appears to add up."

The older man's mouth twisted. "You're playing with fire this town doesn't need."

"Maybe." He took a drink from his glass. He gave a cursory look around them. "And maybe we're digging up a fire this town could really use."

"If I may be so bold, sir." Jackson leaned in closer as his voice became a whisper, "You love these people and this place, I can tell. But this planet is barely habitable; these people are barely scraping by. If we find what we're after, I'm sure I speak for my shipmates when I say that I'm sure we could spare some of the proceeds to help you revitalize this area."

The sheriff was considering what the men had been saying. "Don't think I haven't considered it." He rubbed his empty sleeve absentmindedly.

"We're not askin' for help here, Sheriff." Ty leaned on the table. "Just your blessing."

Wen Doyle was grumbling. Even if it was out of the resignation of knowing who he was dealing with he seemed about to agree when a bright young voice called through the bar.

"Wo Bu Shin Wo Dah Yan Jing!" The eyes around the table swiveled to find a young man standing over them. "The Kokezaru brothers? Is that your Osprey outside town? What the hell are you doing here?"

He was thin, almost gangley, and wore a smile nearly as wide as he was tall. His bright brown eyes which flashed over to the sheriff. "They here to help out?"

"Tom..."

"Tom?" The recognition flashed across his face. It had been so long since he had last seen Tom Patrick that he didn't recognize him at first. He was just a boy then. Too young to fight. Too young to live with the the things he had seen. "Tommy P?" When he went missing that night the whole company was certain he was dead.

He flashed a look at Wen Doyle. "How?"

Doyle shrugged, a small smile coming back. "Just showed up one day with a small group looking to settle down."

"Another old war buddy I'd wager?" Jackson stood and offered his hand to Tom.

"More like a drowned puppy we pulled outta the river and wouldn't quit followin' us," Dru half stood as Tom shook hands with him, "but he was a hell of a kid. Where did ya get off to?"

Tom sat down next to Durden and hung his head. "I was banged up pretty bad everything went black an' the next thing I knew I was in a purple belly prison camp hospital. Spent the rest of the war in that gorram place." A dark shadow crossed his young face.

Jackson was feeling more uncomfortable for by the second. He had definitely been on the wrong side of the war.

A gentle hand came to rest on his arm. Vanya gave Jacks a soft curl of a smile before returning her hand to her lap. "I was very sheltered from it. But I know there were so many horrible places to spend the war. And I haven't heard half the stories." For a moment the light in her eyes was somewhat distant. Then she shook the curls back from her face and turned the smile to her brothers. "But I'm sure I will if we spend more time here."

Tyler shook his head, a small, amused smile on his face. "I think that's Mei Mei's polite way to say we need ta get back ta the subject at hand." Dru drained his glass and ordered another round. "So you alright with us doing our business, old man?"

Doyle took his time answering. He looked down into his mug of beer like he was trying read tea leaves. He, Doyle, looked up at Tom and the to the two brothers. A worried smile crossed his face, the wrinkles around his eyes deepening. "I can see there's no talking you boys out of this so I ain't gonna." Doyle shook his head. "You lads just keep your part of the bargain."

Tyler leaned back in his seat, fixing Dolye with a mock look of shock and bewilderment. "C'mon, Wen, how many times have we let you down?"

Doyle chuckled, "Since I've only got one hand to count on, I guess that means I need to kick off my boots - both of them - to give an accurate number."