OOC: JP between @Winters, @MK Blitzen, @Yule, @Aalakrys

“Toldja I needed a gorram rifle!” Serena huffed from inside the trailer.

Kinneas tutted with a rub to his jaw as he saw the shot fall short with a puff of dirt. “Impressive.”

"Now more than ever Doc is it clear to me that I did not hire you for your ability to shoot a gun." Jago said dryly. "Okay Plan B …"

"Shut yer ass and hold onto it!" Doc interrupted as she chomped down hard on her cigarillo while chambering another round. She paused, took a deep breath and raised her crosshairs slightly higher than the box and fired. The next bullet found its mark as the box burst open, showering the area with a cloud of smoke. "HA! Suck it!" The medic shouted as she jumped up, jabbing a finger at the box before realizing she was now exposed to the shooter and quickly dropping back down on her belly.

"She hit the box yet?" Vas asked.

"Yea she finally hit it." Jago affirmed over comms. And Kinneas dashed off without a word, unaware of the peanut gallery going on in private.

As he sprinted towards where his gear awaited, he started pulling his hair up so it would be out of the way. It was pulled halfway through a tie so it held itself in a loop by the time he’d reached the door and jerked it open. The sight of the unfortunate prisoner being shouldered in his rear by a scrawny kid gave him a moment’s pause. What the hell was going on?

Serena stopped shoving and eyed the good-looking man warily. She secretly hoped her merc hair still looked all right as she held up one hand defensively. “We just wanna get him home safe,” she explained, “Then you can start as many riots and fights and fires as you want, promise. Just don’t shoot me.”

“... Let’s say we’ll unpack that later, but sure, do what you gotta do.” Kinneas said as he walked to the make-shift bunk his duffle rested beside and lifted it over his shoulder. He was nearly out the door when he turned back for another glance at the sucker in the window.

Mrs. Serena Reed, Serena wrote in her head in her best cursive. They’d have to name their firstborn after Vas, of course, unless it was a girl, in which case she decided she liked the name Chloe, or maybe Melody, Melody Reed, that was pretty.

“Have you tried lifting his legs up over his hips?” Kinneas said, shifting the bag and interrupting… something. “He’d probably slide right out on his face.”

OOC: JP between @Winters, @MK Blitzen, @Yule, @Aalakrys

“I was thinking butter,” Serena added. “My friend gets his head stuck in a lotta things, and he swears by butter.”

“Not much of that around here… but oil.” Kinneas pointed to the lantern hanging on the wall, not quite sure what that said about the girl’s friend. “Just, don’t catch him on fire?”

"Fēi tā mā de are you even PUSHING!" A voice complained from the other side of the window.

“I was tryin’ to not get him caught on fire!” Serena explained, turning back to Kinneas. “That’s my onii.” Vas Timothy Reed. Ugh, no, no, no, not after Tim. “He’s in a hurry.”

“Uh-huh,” Kinneas said as he knelt down to unzip the bag he placed along the floor, half-listening when the girl spoke to him again. From it, he extracted the case and set to work assembling his rifle in the safety of the trailer.

Barnet had stepped on Serena’s head for leverage to get himself out the window, leaving her alone in the trailer with Reed as he put together a rifle. She searched her brain for something to start a conversation that would make her sound mature when the sound of revving engines caught her attention, as well as the distinct sound of something being launched through a tube.

“Onii?” Serena asked as a small cylinder flew in through the open window. It immediately hissed like a snake, releasing an obnoxious smelling gas that made her eyes water. The teen quickly pulled a rebreather from her pack and pulled it over her face like they’d practiced.

Barnet landed right on top of Vas who was cursing up a storm. He slid his on just in case. "Don't. Move." Vas ordered Barnet before hauling himself up to see into the trailer. "What are you waiting for a freaking invitation." He said to Serena as the room quickly filled with some kind of gas. Vas wasn't planning on hanging around to figure it out.

Shouts from the miners could be heard throughout the camp as the Interpol agents crashed the proverbial party, firing tear gas and pepper balls. Serena panicked. There was no time for coercing Kinneas to the ship, and if she left him, Interpol would string him up, no questions asked. As her tall future husband headed for the trailer door, a two by four would render him unconscious. The teen’s face, shrouded in a rebreather was the last thing he’d see before the world went black.

OOC: JP between @MK Blitzen, @Aalakrys

Serena idly chewed on a tongue depressor as she scooted across the deck on Dr. Pritchard's rolly stool. The teen had volunteered to keep an eye on Kinneas until he woke up, so Enid could have a much-needed cup of coffee and smoke out in the cargo bay. So far Kinneas hadn’t done much except sleep. Once he sort of snorted which she thought meant he was waking up, but he quickly settled back down and his eyes never actually opened, so that, she decided, didn’t count. Watching someone - even someone as pretty as Kinneas - sleep was a terrible way to spend an afternoon, she decided, but it was still better than reading or stowing weapons and gear for the next mission.

She picked up Dr. Pritchard's pen light, and after near blinding herself by looking directly at it, she pointed it to Kinneas, willing him to wake up with her mind.

And as if it had been a magic wand, he sat bolt upright and took a deep breath as the room came into focus around him. The light from the pen had drawn his eye, and as it became less fuzzy so did the girl holding it. He swayed slightly on the spot as his head swam, his hand falling down to his side to steady himself.

Once it passed, he cleared the grog from his throat and rubbed his temple with his thumb a moment, trying to figure out if he was dreaming. “I take it that oil worked for you on the hostage.”

“He stepped on my head and managed to squeeze ‘emself out,” Serena reported, through a mouth full of tongue depressor. “No oil needed. I’m supposed to get the doc when you’re up, so if you wanna couple of minutes to decide if you are, that’s fine by me.”

Kinneas looked around the room of the medbay at that, then back to the girl. “Depends. Are we in the black?”

“Yep,” The teen said, tossing the tongue depressor in the trash can, after near gagging on it. “On account of Interpol showed up and things were gettin’ dicey and they were arrestin’ all the miners.”

“Oh, well… that’ll do it,” Kinneas said, thoughtfully running a hand along his scalp as he considered his options. There… really weren’t any. At the moment. Except … nah. “Any particular reason you clocked me over the head and loaded me up before you cut and run?”

“Maybe somethin’ fell on your head,” the teen said with a shrug. “There was a lot going on with the tear gas and riot busters. It’s tough to remember, on account of that’s what happens when you get hit in the head.” She nodded for emphasis.

“And now she chooses to be opaque.” He muttered not quite softly enough for her not to hear, then switched gears. “Am I allowed to know the name of the ship I’m cargo on?”

OOC: JP between @MK Blitzen, @Aalakrys

“I don’t so much think you’re cargo as you are saved,” she said thoughtfully. “From Interpol, I mean, not like in the religious sorta way. Unless you’re the religious sort, maybe you found religion when you got hit on the head, which is fine, Jago - he’s the Captain, he’s not so much religious. I mean, he loses his religion if he stubs his toe on the leg of a table or when things go to hell in a handbasket. Besides, the cabins are much nicer than the cargo bay, and Tim set one up for you right proper. Oh, right! The ship’s name is the Lunar Veil. Pretty isn’t it? I didn’t name it. I’m Serena.” She jerked a thumb towards herself for emphasis. “I didn’t name me either.”

Saved from Interpol? That was interesting, though only a matter of time, maybe. Something to think about later. The girl's returned stream of consciousness was useful. He recognized the name and remembered the phoney negotiator. Learning the ship's name told him nothing - maybe a good sign, seeing how their best sniper was a bad shot. "Most of us don't get to choose our name, you're right. Say, Serena, why would you have a cause to save me, a perfect stranger by all rights, from Interpol?"

Serena shrugged her shoulders up to her ears and then back down. “On account of Jago said to. He’s the captain. I know I just said that, but sometimes when people get hit on the head they have trouble trying to remember things. Plus, there’s more of us to remember than there are of you. You want me to go find the doc for you?”

"Sure, just one more thing." Kinneas played up the card she handed him, not sure it'd work since he'd taken her of no consequence once already. "You said something about a brother when we met before, right? Is he the pilot or doctor?"

“My onii!” Serena said happily, scooting closer with the rolling stool. “He’s not neither. Tim’s the pilot, and Doctor Prichard is the doc. My onii is just my onii. His name’s Vas. You’ll like him, on account of he was the religious sort too. Ish. Kind of. You never gave me your name in return though, but it’s okay. Like I said, sometimes folk have trouble remembering things like that if they get hit on the head. I’m Serena,” she prompted, placing a hand on her chest. “What do you like to be called?”

If this was happening to someone else, he would have found it amusing. As it was, he managed to keep a straight face without much effort. Figuring the girl knew his name, given her captain had ordered her - and likely the rest of the crew - to "save" him, he decided to go with the lie and feign a moment of thought as a final attempt at prying. "I… know my name is Kinneas, but can't for the life of me recall why Interpol would be after me."

“That’s what they called you on the news feed.” Serena agreed. “Sometimes people don’t like to be called what they were named. Like the doc - her first name is Enid, but she doesn’t like to be called it, and since she’s in charge of all things sharp and stabby, I call her doc. And Tim, his name’s Tim-o-thy, but no one calls him that, just Tim. I think Interpols were after you on account of they said you blew up the mine at Cold Creek.”

"I… blew up that mine?" Kinneas' head swam with that news, maybe with the help of the new head wound. But he shook his head in what might have looked like denial. "Whoever theyare that's saying that is mistaken."

OOC: JP between @Winters, @MK Blitzen, @Aalakrys

“I said that too,” Serena agreed. “On account of you’re too pretty to be blowin’ up a mine. The sheriff in Black Burrow didn’t seem to like you too much. I betcha he put the notion in their head. But you’re in the black and safe now, ‘cept for the ghost on account of Tim says the ship is haunted but my Onii says there’s no such thing as ghosts, and since you’re the religious sort, you should be okay.”

The sheriff. That made sense. But something else didn't, at least as far as he could tell. "Why do you keep saying I'm religious, Serena?"

Serena looked confused. “On account of… “ She stopped, and tilted her head to listen.

The sound of boot steps could be heard growing louder as they approached the med bay. "... Maybe she thinks you saw God when you got clocked on the head." Vas snorted. He was tall, and lean with mocha skin and blue eyes and his hair done up in a mohawk. He could have been older but he had a baby face that made him look not much older than Serena.

“That’s my onii, Vas,” Serena reminded him. “It’s easy to spell.” And this is the future Mr. Serena Jat, She told herself.

"Tea's up if you want any. Tim got some nice red apples. A whole bowlful." The punk-looking crew mate said with a bright grin. "Hey and Sleeping Beauty is up. Any vomiting, nausea, blurry vision …" Vas asked.

"So, a nurse." Kinneas said, pointing at the punk with a look to Serena for the answer. "Not the doctor."

"Ta ma de no. I was betting you had a concussion." Vas rolled his eyes as if that should have been obvious.

Serena giggled. “He’s just my onii,” she reminded her future husband. “Tim got red apples, do you want me to bring you one? Can you eat yet? Are you hungry? Do you like red apples? And tea? Course you like tea, everyone likes tea, but do you like red apples?” she questioned, rapid-fire.

"... I am not sure I've ever had one." His first entirely complete lie, and he didn't feel any remorse about it. It was likely he had tried every type of red apple in the entire 'Verse. "But, if the nurse is done with his assessment, I can get one myself?"

"Not a nurse don't give a houzi pigu and you never answered my question so if you fall flat on your face I win ten credits." Vas said dryly crossing his arms
"Someone is betting in my favor." Kinneas grinned, then he admitted: "Dizziness, some. The vision cleared up almost immediately. No nausea."

OOC: JP between @Winters, @MK Blitzen, @Aalakrys

“I said that too,” Serena agreed. “On account of you’re too pretty to be blowin’ up a mine. But that’s what the news feed said. And the sheriff in Black Burrow didn’t seem to like you too much. I betcha he put the notion in their head. But you’re in the black and safe now, ‘cept for the ghost on account of Tim says the ship is haunted but my Onii says there’s no such thing as ghosts, and since you’re the religious sort, you should be okay.”

The sheriff. That made sense. But something else didn't, at least as far as he could tell. "Why do you keep saying I'm religious, Serena?"

Serena looked confused. “On account of… “ She stopped and tilted her head to listen.

The sound of boot steps could be heard growing louder as they approached the med bay. "... Maybe she thinks you saw God when you got clocked on the head." Vas snorted. He was tall, and lean with mocha skin and blue eyes and his hair done up in a mohawk. He could have been older but he had a baby face that made him look not much older than Serena.

“That’s my onii, Vas,” Serena reminded him. “It’s easy to spell. V-a-s.” And you are the future Mr. Serena Jat, She told herself dreamily.

"Tea's up if you want any. Tim got some nice red apples. A whole bowlful." The punk-looking crew mate said with a bright grin. "Hey and Sleeping Beauty is up. Any vomiting, nausea, blurry vision …" Vas asked.

"So, a nurse," Kinneas said, pointing at the punk with a look to Serena for the answer. "Not the doctor."

"Ta ma de no. I was betting you had a concussion." Vas rolled his eyes as if that should have been obvious.

Serena giggled. “He’s no nurse, he’s just my onii,” she reminded her future husband. “Tim got red apples, do you want me to bring you one? Can you eat yet? Are you hungry? Do you like red apples? And tea? Course you like tea, everyone likes tea, but do you like red apples?” she questioned, rapid-fire.

"... I am not sure I've ever had one." His first entirely complete lie, and he didn't feel any remorse about it. It was likely he had tried every type of red apple in the entire 'Verse. "But, if the nurse is done with his assessment, I can get one myself?"

"Not a nurse don't give a houzi pigu and you never answered my question so if you fall flat on your face I win ten credits," Vas said dryly crossing his arms.

"Someone is betting in my favor." Kinneas grinned, then he admitted: "Dizziness, some. The vision cleared up almost immediately. No nausea."

OOC: JP between @Winters, @MK Blitzen, @Yule, @Aalakrys

“And he never had a red apple,” Serena said with a sad shake of her head. “Don’t worry, I’ll change that - stat! That means right away - but I’m not a nurse either.”

"Mild concussion is still a concussion … sweet." Vas said walking off to the galley. "Serena you coming or what?"

“Yep! Before Tim eats them all. You coming Kinneas?” She asked, emphasizing his name. “Do you need someone to help you walk? You can lean on me, I’m a lot stronger than I look.”

"I don't doubt that." Kinneas said, rubbing the knot on his scalp once more. "I think I'm fine to walk, though."

Serena scowled, and her shoulders dropped. “Okay, but I’ll be close in case you change your mind,” She offered.

Somehow, that did not bring him any comfort what-so-ever. Kinneas was determined to stay steady, so that meant taking a little more care than usual since he felt slightly off-balance simply sitting. Though he didn’t think she’d take him up on it, he offered with a reassuring grin: “Go on ahead - I can catch up. You can save me an apple.”

"Why's it every time someone gets stabbed, shot or clunked, this place becomes so damn popular?" Doc's annoyed voice came into the room from behind the punk matched by her equally annoyed expression that he was blocking the doorway to her medbay. She gave Vas a shooing motion for him to step aside so she could make her way to her patient.

"Maybe you should have chosen a less … people oriented profession?" Vas suggested making sure he was out of striking distance before making his comment.

Kinneas found himself silently agreeing with the punk kid as he caught sight of the apparent doctor. Not at all what he had envisioned when he thought ‘doctor.’

"And maybe you should shut yer ass." Doc retorted, giving the ship's hand a side-eye as she passed him. She went straight to work checking on Kinneas. She held the man's head at the temples and slowly rotated it to the left and then to the right as she looked down her nose very thoughtfully at him, taking in any response or reaction. "Fact is", she continued, her tone more thoughtful as she examined her patient, "your guts don't give a rat's pìgu about whether or not my tone hurts your precious fee-fees."

"Don't worry Doc … my fee-fees are fine, we have been long vaccinated to your demeanor." Vas assured the Doctor as she worked. "By now most of us find it endearing. That or one too many shots to the head and none of us know better now. I choose to remain positive.”

OOC: JP between @Winters, @MK Blitzen, @Aalakrys

“Most, not all,” Serena said under her breath. “Want us to save you an apple, too, Doc? Tim picked up special for Kinneas, but he never had a red apple, so he’s not even sure he likes ‘em.”

Though he seriously doubted any special effort was put in for him by this point, thinking it more the girl’s delusions, Kinneas continued being a ragdoll for the doctor - a little afraid at this point of the woman’s barb to do otherwise.

"Mmm hmm", Doc answered mindlessly. The words of that child just bounced off of her forehead at this rate. She was too engrossed in her work to give them ramblings much thought. She wanted to get a better look at Kinneas's pupil reaction, so her hand blindly reached down to where her small penlight normally was, only to find it not there…again. She let out an audible sigh and impatiently cleared her throat as she gave a narrow look to the teenage girl.

Serena frowned, and pulled the penlight from the top pocket of her pink overall shorts, and dejectedly handed it over. “I was just mostly borrowing it for safekeeping,” She explained. “And on account of ghosts don’t much like light.”

Enid snatched the penlight away from the girl with a scowl. She clicked it on with her thumb and turned her attention back to her patient. She checked the man's pupil dilation. Seemed normal. She then ran her hand under his hair and located the lump. She palpated the area and frowned, turning to the other two. "Who the hell did this??" She asked, her voice clearly accusatory.

Vas looked at Serena and just walked away. He knew when to abandon ship!

“It was pretty dark in the trailer and with the tear gas, there was lots of stuff falling,” Serena offered. “So it’s kinda hard to say for one hundred percent certain.”

"Get over here." She hissed at the girl. When she got close enough, Doc grabbed her hand and put it firmly on the top of Kinneas's neck. "Feel that? I said 'Base' of the skull. Base!" She moved the girl's hand centimeters higher to the fresh lump. "This will end up giving the victim a brain bleed!" She rolled her eyes as she turned her attention back to the young man. "You probably don't have a brain bleed. Not showing the symptoms. Still, we'll need to keep you under observation for 24 hours and we'll do a scan. Nothing to worry about."

“That’s … reassuring.” Kinneas settled on as the girl continued to poke about in his hair. He glanced over at her with a quirked eyebrow at the sound of what he thought was sniffing.

Serena inhaled deeply, seizing the opportunity to note the man’s hair smelled like coconut, citrus, and a hint of mine dust. “I will keep that in mind for Tim. And like I said, it was dark. I had to get my rebreather on, and lots of things coulda caused this bump. That’s why you should let me keep that penlight.”

OOC: JP between @Winters, @MK Blitzen, @Aalakrys

Doc tucked the penlight into her breast pocket. "No can do, kiddo. I need it as long as we're treating our guest." She wasn't completely unsympathetic to the young girl. The pilot did tease her pretty mercilessly. "When we land, maybe then. I can…I dunno, buy a replacement. Which I will be charging the Captain for. And if he bitches, you're handling it." She jabbed a finger at the girl before noticing that her hand was still on Kinneas's head. She slapped her wrist. "Now quit molesting my patient!"

“I think you’ve gotten all you can from the sudden hands-on learning experience, kid,” Kinneas added a bit more gently, though he was grateful to the doctor for taking the girl in hand so to speak.

Serena’s ears flushed pink as she drew her hand back, considering where the doc could shove her old pen-light. “What? I.. pfff, no, I mean… I’m goin’ I’m goin’,” She grumbled, collecting the rest of her pride, along with a fresh tongue depressor on the way out. She waved it at the doc dismissively. “But see if I save you an apple.”

"They say an apple a day keeps me away," Doc mused, "buuuuut if you wanna risk it." She added with a shrug.

“Then we’re gonna need more apples,” Serena snarked, popping her head back through the doorway before skittering down to the galley.

“She’s certainly … something,” Kinneas said as he slid his legs off the side of the medical bed, that slight dizziness staying such. “I’m pretty sure she gave me that concussion, even if she didn’t hit me over the head to do it.”

"Well, the crap from those two ends up keeping me busier than I'd prefer." Doc bemoaned. "Hell, they coulda just asked you to come along. Guess the kid's been watching too many action flicks."

“She did say she ‘saved’ me from Interpol.” Kinneas grinned, thinking the doctor would know the girl best and agreed with the guess. But, he sobered a bit as his brows knit. “And she was particularly evasive about the reason why. Are you going to tell me it was because the captain said so as well if I ask?”

Doc re-sorted her equipment, cleaning up after Hurricane Serena. "Standard rescue procedure as I understood it…if you can call any of this 'standard'", she said, waving one of the many tongue depressors sprawled on the counter out of their caddy. "I swear, how does she manage to touch so much stuff in one quick smoke break?" She wondered aloud before turning back to Kinneas. "Cap would be the one with all the details you need filled in, though", she admitted. "But for the next 24 hours, you're 'medically restricted'. That means no heavy lifting, fighting, screwing or making any important decisions." She pointed a finger at her patient. "I'll be bugging you every couple of hours, make sure you're not gonna keel over on us."

OOC: JP between @Winters, @MK Blitzen, @Aalakrys

Well, isn't this goddamn surreal, Kinneas thought as the doctor went on as if this were a normal day for her. But, based on her previous comment and what he'd seen of the crew so far, that wasn't too shocking. "Way to put a damper on my next twenty-four hours of surprise space travel, doc."

He wasn't going to use a name for the woman despite his easy tone. Serena had warned him, and the joke he thought it now far flung back to something that may need heeding. And, he hadn't done anything yet to earn her ire. Until he knew exactly what was going on, he'd play civil. He stood, testing the dizziness one final time, as he asked: "I'm free to go, otherwise?"

"Go on." She said, bobbing a thumb in the direction of the door. "Grab yourself one of them apples before squirrel girl stashes a mess of them away for winter. It's not often we manage fresh fruit on this boat, so enjoy it while it's here."

“Will do.” Kinneas said as he made his way towards the door, a part of him half anticipating the woman to jab him with something as he passed. Not that she’d given any reason for him to think that - which is exactly why he did, most likely. But, he escaped unharmed - for now. The paranoia he was trying to ignore had only been countered so far by how odd the crew had been so far. Nearly too comical to take as a threat, but he’d already learned his lesson with the girl.

The doc had made it seem like she wasn’t going to tail him, and no one seemed relatively concerned that he’d go berserk and attempt anything crazy. Which was surprising, since the girl - Serena, he said in his head in the same slow way she had to amuse himself - had asked him not to shoot her upon meeting. It might have been a ruse. This whole nonchalance of him just being there amongst them, too. He’d play along for now, he supposed, unless things got dicey.

He looked around the room outside the infirmary a brief moment as he passed through it to the stairs the kids must’ve taken. There wasn’t much to see where the stairs left off - water filtration and recycling, which he always tried not to think too much about during space travel - so he ascended the next flight. A glance to his left was a hatch and the engine, and to the right he could see people.

OOC: JP between @Winters, @MK Blitzen, @Aalakrys

The remainder of the crew were gathered around the table in the galley laughing and chatting. Vas had smugly claimed his win and was cutting up an apple into slices. He broke out his stash of cinnamon to sprinkle on.

"You think with all that hair it might have softened …" Vas cleared his throat. "... Whatever might have nailed him in the head." He said, chuckling.

"Well he's awake so it couldn't have been too bad. You plan on sharing that or just showing off and forcing us to find it and use it later." Jago asked, eyeing the precious spice.

"Good luck finding it." Vas said with a crooked smile sliding the jar to Jago. "Don't go and use it all either."

Serena had used the tongue depressor to spear the apple like the caramel coated ones she’d gotten at a fair not long ago, taking a break from nibbling now and then for Vas to sprinkle on some cinnamon until Vas gave the jar to Jago. She knew where he hid it, but wild horses couldn’t make her tell. Unless they asked politely. She decided she’d definitely give a talking horse cinnamon if it asked, and in her head, it was perfectly justified.

“Probably with all them romance novels you “don’t read”,” Tim added, throwing in a set of air-quotes for good measure.

"...and no cinnamon for Tim." Vas stated, reaching out to drag the jar back. "Also. I have no idea what you're talking about."

“He means those books you read with the steamy covers and names like “A Week to be Wicked,” Serena clarified, crunching through a bite of apple. “The ones you keep saying aren’t yours.”

Vas tightened the lid on his jar of cinnamon. "That a hint you're looking for something more challenging to read?" He said slowly staring down Serena.

Jago tried to keep a lockdown on his chuckling. He didn't want to be included on growing cinnamon embargo forming.

Serena helped herself to one of Vas’ cinnamon sprinkled apple slices. “Nuh-uh,” she said with a shake of her pigtailed head. “We have no idea what you’re talking about, Tim. “ She added for good measure.

Kinneas watched the exchange from the landing uninterrupted. If it were some sort of long-con, it was a damn good one. The crew’s interaction was casual, like he had witnessed between the miners who would been working the same shifts for ages. They described it as familial, which he had to take their word for given his family life hadn’t been normal for most.

OOC: JP between @Winters, @MK Blitzen, @Aalakrys

As he watched, he wasn’t panged by some sort of outsider feeling or touched by endearment, however. He was cataloging. Putting together the pieces he’d gathered, Tim being the newest one now attached to a visual. The crew consisted of a captain, pilot, doctor, and two kids. Maybe an engineer that hadn’t been present, so five maybe six. Serena had taught him not to discredit size, because he was pretty certain she had hit him over the head with something. Not that he was planning on confrontation… but this was just too weird not to be ready for something.

So far, that something had been jokes at his dispense about his hair and… religion? Still hadn’t figured that one out. But, he wouldn’t be found lurking if the doctor made her way up after finishing cleaning the aftermath of Hurricane Serena. They’d basically been acting like his presence there just was, so he wasn’t going to wait for an invitation. Sure, he’d had apples, but that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy them all the same - especially after his stint on Silverhold, dusty barren land it was.

As he walked towards the galley and the ship’s crew, he tied his hair back up to fix the mess the doctor, and Serena’s, investigation had made of it. As he took a seat - a safe distance away from Serena’s reach - he casually spoke and took an apple. “Nothing wrong with some light, pleasurable reading, kid. Good way to pass the time - and the only way if you’re “medically restricted,” apparently.”

"Well look who is back to the land of the living." Jago mused.

"And no one has to kiss 'em to wake his ass up." Vas chuckled.

Serena decided she definitely would have volunteered.

Kinneas was about to bite into his apple, the hesitation only a split second of suspicion that came with an old fairytale from Earth that Was. Nah - poisoned apple wasn’t an MO he’d associate with these oddballs.

"Well just in case there's any question, Tim, Vas." Jago motioned. "Serena and Doc you already met. You and I had an introduction dirtside this is my ship, the Lunar Veil."

“Met war hawk down below,” Kinneas said, having given Tim a nod of greeting as he was announced, absently spinning the apple between his caged fingers on the table. “Said someone was betting on my condition - got the feeling he only came to confirm his win.”

“It’s true.” Vas nodded shamelessly.

Though he hadn’t committed to anything regarding these people yet, he had to like the kid for his opportunistic eye for credits. “I did have a question aside from that, though, Captain.”

OOC: JP between @Winters, @MK Blitzen, @Aalakrys

“By all means … I make no guarantees you’ll get an answer.” Jago said leaning back in his chair.

“Why the hell am I here?” Kinneas asked, not aggressively, but rather curious as he scratched between his brow with a thumb.

“And that’s my cue to exit stage left,” Tim chuckled. “Cockpit needs tending to, awkward conversation needs being avoided.”

“Easy we were paid to cart you along. Least till the next stop.” Jago answered.

“And on account of we didn’t wanna leave you to Interpol,” Serena added, trying to get her hands on Vas’ cinnamon jar.

“Naw it’s cuz we were paid to …” Vas said opening the spice jar for his sister.

Kinneas figured that was the truth without Vas’ clarification, but it made him smirk at least. “So, at the next stop, you get paid and I’m free to go my own way?”

“Oh no, we got paid up the moment we hit the black.” Jago laughed. “We have a station hop and then we're off to New Kasmir. So you got your choice of which you like to step off on.”

“You guys really like apples, huh?” Kinneas said, thinking of the planet’s main crop, but shifted as he watched the passing spice jar. “Wouldn’t be willing to tell me who paid you? Can’t imagine it was the sheriff. He’d rather see me dead.”

“Those were his exact words,” Serena added with a nod. Kinneas barked a laugh, unable to help himself.

“You haven’t flown much have you?” Vas smirked shaking his head.

Jago waved Vas’s comment off. “No.” The Captain said flatly.

“You’re less talkative when you’re not a negotiator.” Kinneas commented, still fidgeting with the apple, but considering as he studied the captain. “What about the ‘why’ they paid you? Do you know?”

Vas snorted at Kinneas’s comment and question. “You're a better actor than I give you credit for.” He chuckled at Jago.

“It was the suit.” Jago shrugged. “I think you're under some impression we just hand out information regarding our clients. Let me put it real simple so your poor scrambled brain can muddle through it. We were paid to get you off-planet. That's all you need to know and that's all your gonna get. You have your pick of where you wanna be let off and be on your merry way. Hell, if you wanna make your way back to Silverhold that is on you but our job is done.”

OOC: JP between @Winters, @MK Blitzen, @Aalakrys

"Well, excuse me for being a bit curious on why the hell a little girl hit me over the head with what feels like was a two-by-four and waking up in the black with a band of apple-loving mercs that are acting like letting their captive wander freely is just part of the day." Kinneas said with clear annoyance as his head throbbed. "Especially when said captive - me - is apparently so dangerous Interpol is interested in me for a crime I didn't commit."

"She didn't hit you on the head …" Vas stated. "... In spite of how hilarious it would have been." He added in a smaller voice.

"Calm yourself Goldielocks. No one said you were a captive but you and the only folk who might think you're dangerous is Interpol." Jago assured Man-Bun.

"She thought I'd shoot her." Kinneas pointed at Serena, instinctively defending his pride while barely managing to not bristle.

"And?" Vas asked, crunching on an apple slice. He wasn't seeing the point of that statement.

“You were putting together a gun,” Serena said defensively, “and the sheriff said you’d sooner shoot me than say hello,” She deepended her voice to mimic the Sheriff and his accent. “And you didn’t say hello, so…” she held her hands out, as if the obvious conclusion was that he’d shoot.

Vas motioned to Serena as if that was perfect justification to think someone might get shot.

"See? Dangerous." Kinneas grinned before finally taking a bite of apple.

“Besides,” Serena offered. “You’re not a captive. It’s just that if you leave right now there’s no atmosphere and you’d be better off waitin’ til we land.”

"What else are you supposed to call someone who is moved somewhere while they're unconscious that they have no way of escaping in the moment if they wanted?" He posed, pausing from chewing the piece he'd bitten and tucked away in his cheek to speak, since they were taking semantics. "It wasn't like I was asked. Kidnapped? By kids. And, their old man."

He gave another barked laugh, finding it hilarious considering what that scene must've looked like.

Unfortunately no one else was laughing.

Serena took half a step behind Vas.

"If you rather then we can just turn back around and drop you at Interpol's feet. Then you can suss out the difference between a rescue and captivity then." Jago offered.

OOC: JP between @Winters, @MK Blitzen, @Aalakrys

Kinneas lifted a brow, realizing he'd touched a nerve given the silence, but still smiled. Amused. "Must be the poor scrambled brain, but I think I'll pass on getting arrested if it's all the same to you."

"Hmm-hmm." Jago said, chewing his own apple. "Suddenly see the difference now huh."

"Yeah, we'll be prudent and say so," Kinneas said, entirely facetious.

"Good," Jago said agreeably. "In the meantime, you can think on where you wanna step off, so long as it ain't out of our way it matters none to me."

“New Kasmir,” Serena offered in a whisper, peeking out from behind her brother. “The Summer Solstice fair is coming up.”

“New Kasmir is as good a place as any,” Kinneas said and took another bite of his apple. He’d actually eat the thing now, as the reality of his situation settled with his words. Not being able to go back to Silverhold without the feds on him meant no job prospects, which meant no money. He’d have to find a new haunt and the Kalidasa system was as he said - as good a place as any.

"Shiney. Make yourself comfortable, pick a room and we'll be there before you know it." Jago offered.

“Pick a room? I didn’t see a passenger attachment like other Fireflys I’ve been on. You’re saying I get to choose who I share a room with?” He asked, eyebrow arching, a faint tickling at the back of his mind lost in all the earlier Serena chatter. Hadn’t she mentioned something about this? Maybe his concussion really was worse than he thought.

"No, we don't have passenger dorms, just crew quarters find an empty one and use that," Vas said slowly. "Right there…" He pointed with a thumb.

Kinneas looked around the table at the four of the crew and mentally counted the doctor on the roster, leaning back against his chair. “Can’t you just tell me which one is open? Or are you just going to enjoy me trying to find out for myself?”

Vas gave a wry smile flashing a look to the Jago who just shrugged.

"Imōto. Watashitachi no gesuto wa, teichō ni kare ni tsuā o teikyō shi, kare ga heya o mitsukeru no o tetsudau tame ni tewonigiru hitsuyō ga arimasu. (Sister. Our guest needs handholding respectfully give him a tour and help him find a room.)" Vas said to Serena. "Sonogo, renshū no tame ni kamotsu-shitsu ni kite kudasai. (Then come to the cargo bay for practice.) Mingbai?(understood)"

“Mingbai,” Serena replied. “C’mon, Kinneas, I’ll show you to an open room. I think Tim made one up.” She ticked her head for him to follow.

OOC: JP between @Winters, @MK Blitzen, @Aalakrys

Kinneas slid his chair back to stand, tossing the apple core away as he departed. “Nice having dinner with you. Thanks for the unexpected invite.”

Vas made a face as Kinneas trail after Serena mouthing 'Dinner?'

Jago shrugged neither recalling any kind of invitation and if he thought an apple sufficed as dinner? Maybe his head really was scrambled.

"Right, that's enough psychosis for one day. I'll be in the cargo bay." Vas said getting up.

"Don't break anything." Jago joked.

"Ha-ha." Vas said, turning the corner.

“Have you been to New Kasmir?” Serena chattered, half walking backwards to make sure Kinneas was following. “We were to New Kasmir once but it was winter, so I can’t wait to go to the Summer Solstace.”

An image of strolling through the orchards crossed his mind at the question, which he shook away as he followed. “Yeah, it’s a pretty nice place. Relaxing. Not really my thing, though.”

“Really?” Serena said, with a spring in her step. “What is your thing then?”

“Something… a little more exciting than a stroll through some trees or hiking up a mountain trail.” He said with a slight grin. That was about all he’d give to the girl. “How about you?”

“They gotta ferris wheel,” she said, “And six different kinds of candy floss, and popcorn covered in sugar. That’s better than hikin’ up a mountain isn’t is?”

“I’m sure it could be.” He allotted. “But, I’d say it’s the fudge. Caramel apple fudge, since you’re a fan of apples.”

“Do you think they’ll have that?” She asked, her eyes growing wider. “Apples are pretty sweet as it is, but caramel AND fudge?”

“They could.” He speculated. “I haven’t been there in a long while, and my circumstances were… different, then, so I can’t say much about affordability.”

“What kind of circumstances?” She pressed.

“I grew up.” He grinned again. “Now which room is it?”

“This one, “ she said, pointing to a ladder down. “Do you need help gettin’ down to your bunk?”

“I think I can handle it.” He said with a slight laugh. “Thanks for the guided tour.”

“My Onii and I are right over there, so if you need anything you can just holler, and I’ll come help.” She promised.

“That’s reassuring.” He said as he started down the ladder. There was a lot to think about, and he couldn’t quite do that with the chatterbox going.

“Night Kinneas,” She called down after him, before turning on her heel to head to the cargo bay. “Oh! And welcome aboard the Lunar Veil!”

When the hatch closed at Serena's departure, Kinneas felt a weight lift off his chest as he took a deep breath and let his head hang just a moment. The cool of the rung against his head was steadying as he focused on it, ordering his thoughts. It was easier away from the others, concussion aside. The familial feel he'd mocked, he never quite got it. Always the independent operator. And it seemed like it caught up to him.

Interpol after him? He did figure it'd happen one day. Kinneas was the last one left from that job. But no, he laughed as he released the ladder and lifted his head. He was convicted of being a terrorist, blowing up another mine, the girl had said.

The whole miner rebellion may have started because of something he sparked, he'd realized on his way to stop the chaos he'd heard about that had landed him here. There may have been some labor law and workers' rights talk over some drinks at the taphouse, tactical strike methods included. However, the sort of strike he'd discussed involved sit-downs and peaceful protests, maybe hunker down to stop production. Not to blow up - or hell, even take hostages.

He ran a hand through the hair along his scalp as he sighed, feeling the knot again while he took in the room. When Serena had said Tim had fixed up the unoccupied bunk, he half expected a welcome banner given the oddity of the crew. But it was clean, functional, and bare aside from the made bed which he went to lie on and his large duffle that had also made the trip. He reached out and touched the canvas, a smirk coming to his lips as his mental image of the three hauling him away from the miner camp now including the large, heavy bag.

First impressions often told you who a person really was, his father had told him. Serena was almost too genuine, in that adorable naive sort of way. Her brother, by contrast, was genuine in a way as well, but definitely not the same. He seemed older than his age, but not by much. Being responsible for someone else, he had seen once before, did that to a kid.

There was a level of responsibility there. Like the doc. Barbed as she was, she didn't seem truly resentful of her work. Otherwise, why stick to it? He could be wrong though. He didn't know her or the rest of them.

Especially the captain. Couldn't get a good read on him. Likely the stone cold type, a begrudging statue with an annoying little song bird that was Serena perched atop and Vas glaring in camaraderie beside. No, he smirked, amusing as it was, it wasn't quite right. The guy had been fine until pressed.

Kinneas' thoughts strayed into what he'd do now, when the captain's words came back to him. 'Go about your merry way.' Silverhold wasn't an option, at least until he sorted whatever mess he was in out. If he even could. If Interpol was after him, he might find it hard to go anywhere for long. Not that he had a place to call home. Finding work was just difficult without a place for clients to find you, though, but usual haunts were also off the table. He'd have to update some folks, he thought, and reached for his bag again - maybe they could help sort out the mess. But first, Kinneas prioritized, some research was in order.

OOC: JP between @MK Blitzen, @Aalakrys

“Patching through now,” Cyd promised the fox, sending a wave Kinneas’ PREN device.

Kinneas lifted his arm from his eyes and looked over at the device as it alerted him. There wasn't anyone left he'd planned on speaking to, but he picked it up, all the same, to see who was waving him.

Cyd’s smile brightened seeing her old friend, and subconsciously she checked her image at the bottom of the screen, just to make sure nothing was out of place. “Aweh, Kinney!” She said.

The bland expression he'd been wearing lit at seeing Cyd. "Hey, girlie. Wasn't expecting you. Nice timing, as always."

“That’s usually my line to you if memory of St. Albans serves me right. Perfectly timed shot saved me and my bruvs from possibly a long stretch in a lock-up.” She reminded him. “Fox wanted a word, but stay on after, oweh? We’ll catch up.”

"That, and a near desperate need to get out of the cold - but, we'll talk about that after." He winked, giving the go-ahead to connect the fixer.

Cyd tapped a few keys and waved before the grizzled face of Theodore Fox appeared on the screen.

“Now?” He asked, no one in particular. “He tapped the screen with a well-calloused finger. “Is this ruttin’ muted?”

"No, getting you loud and clear," Kinneas said as he turned down the volume. "How's things? Been a while. You're looking spry."

“Spry?” He chuffed. “That’s what you say to an old man, not one who signs a lot of your checks, sonny.” There was a smile that you could hear in his voice and crinkled the sides of his eyes when he spoke.

Kinneas made a mental note not to use that word around the captain given how the comment on age got death silence from the others, innocent as it was. Still, he continued on with the natural finesse of flowery sarcasm. "I meant, vibrant and green. Full of youth. Should I just get the shovel and dig my own hole?"

“You seem to be doing that well enough in that department,” Fox said with the raise of a gray eyebrow.

"Isn't that the truth?" Kinneas sighed as he finally moved to sit up, becoming more poised and sincere. "What do I owe the pleasure of seeing your visage, Fox? Got a job for me?"

“Plenty of ‘em if you’re open to it,” Fox offered.

"You know me … pays well and fits my loose moral code, I usually am." Kinneas exhaled. "But, can't say it isn't a little strange to get a wave with such opportunity after I made Interpol's radar."

“That’s one of the things I wanted to talk to you about,” the older man said, rubbing the back of his neck. “You stepped in some la shi knee-deep, looks like, and this ain’t the sort of thing that’s just gonna get swept under a rug. I’ve been trying to make heads or tails of it. Your best bet is layin’ low for a while, but I think we may have a solution, temporary, of course."

OOC: JP between @MK Blitzen, @Aalakrys

"I suppose saying I'm innocent wouldn't suffice?" He said with a sly grin and shake of his head, knowing the answer to that but unable to resist asking. "Only problem with laying low is lack of funds and thus a certain lifestyle I like to keep. But you're saying you have a way around that?"

“I do. I see you’ve met a few friends of mine - I’m too old for the cloak and dagger shit. The Veil - the crew - they run jobs from time to time. That’s one of the reasons I sent ‘em to Silverhold when things started sliding off the rails.”

"Isn't that something," Kinneas said thoughtfully, a smile threatening his lips as he mused. "The crew that hauls me off in the middle of it works for a guy I sometimes work for. So … you're saying I should rub shoulders with my kidnappers?"

“They go an kidnap you?” Fox said with a chuckle.

"The tiny one clocked me, but her brother swears she didn't." Kinneas said, rubbing the sore spot on the back of his head. "I still have no idea how the pair of them and their captain got me and my effects out, but have to admit, I'm impressed."

“They have surprised me more than once - but if you repeat that, I’ll dock your ass. They don’t need swelled heads…. Or to ask for a bump in pay. I can’t take full credit for it, the Skye’s got the notion in their head once Interpol got the tag in. So, they got a ship, you got a place to lay low - I get to throw even more work their way. That’s what they call symbiosis.”

"Yeah, real serendipitous." The way Kinneas said it seemed as if there was another shoe to fall, but he didn't leave it hanging. "Except the fact that I haven't made the best impression on the captain, what with tackling him and calling him fatherly. And… I'm pretty sure the kid - hell, both of them, even - would murder me in my sleep, albeit for different reasons. Not sure we'd have the best cohesion for a symbiotic relationship."

“I’ll talk to Jago, me and him have some history.” Fox promised. "You’re new to them, they’re new to you, if you were braiding each other's hair already I’d be worried. Look, give it a little time, lay low on the ship, I’ll send work your way. At least until we can clear you with Interpol. Look, I know you didn’t go an’ kill anyone unjustified - and definitely not a bunch of miners just looking for a ten percent raise.”

"No, I didn't." The easy manner in which he'd been talking faded as his expression darkened. The deaths at the other mine had made him angry, and not much could do that. It passed just as quickly as it'd come with a breath. "But fine. If you can convince what seems an ornery o– Deckard. And I'll lock the hatch while I sleep, or I just might wake up with my hair braided."

The last Kinneas said with a bit of wariness as he glanced towards the ladder where he'd last seen Serena.

“I’ll talk to Jago. I wanted to pitch the idea to you first, see how you feel about laying low on the ship while we go about finding out what happened up at Cold Creek.” Fox said, sitting back in his chair. The wooden chair creaked under his weight.

"Keep me updated?" Kinneas said, that sly smile touching his eyes as he purposefully thought on how that conversation would go rather than the mine incident.

“I’ll have the kids send you a wave, I hate these ruttin’ things, you’ll be updated. They’re going to head out to Silverhold first thing. Settle in son, you may be there for a while. Uh… Fox. Over.”

OOC: JP between @MK Blitzen, @Aalakrys

Cyd flipped the switch back over when she saw Fox’s light change over. She took a moment to make sure her hair was in place, and that her eyeliner wasn’t smudged. Granted, Kinneas had a good ten years on her, a fact that he reminded her practically every time they worked together, but, she rationalized,

The momentary crease to Kinneas’ brow faded once more when Cyd reappeared on the screen. He lifted an accusatory brow, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes as he studied the screen. “So I owe this surprise stretch in the black to you and the boys.”

“Interpol’s been eyeing you for a bit,” Cyd admitted. “This, Kinney they’d have buried you under a cell. I tried to reach you…. But… are we still cool?” She asked tentatively. It was a huge invasion, she wouldn’t have blamed him if he was angry, but truth be told, the aqua-haired hacker would a thousand times rather him be angry than locked up.

“This is better than a cell.” Kinneas looked around the basically empty bunk. “Want to tell me how you managed to get Fox to call in this… colorful crew of misfits to capture me?”

Cyd pursed her lips and passed the lollipop from one side of her cheek to the other. He was going to find out, and it might as well come from her. “Fox sent them in after Barnet. Mulligan was offering a substantial finder's fee for the man, and Fox knew the Veil was close enough to take the job. And it was Silverhold, bruv, you and Silverhold are like Isaac and his head getting stuck in something. They go hand in hand. So I dug a little, and I saw they were building a case,” she shrugged. “I called the only person I could think of.”

"Uh huh…" Kinneas didn't disbelieve her, but it seemed to him a few details were being left out. Still, he didn't press. "I'm flattered your investigative spirit took interest. Lucky, too, since prison wouldn't exactly agree with me."

He was grinning, ever one to be flippant about serious matters. Though, he wasn't about to shirk an opportunity to learn about his new potential crew. "What do you know about these folk, anyway? Might as well get comfortable with the idea of sticking around them."

“They’re good people, “ she admitted. “Known them for some time, Vas the longest. It’ll take him a bit to warm up, but you won’t find anyone more loyal, once you get past the whole… sullen… glare kind of thing. Jago - he’s a straight shooter. If you’re looking for someone to tiptoe around your feelings, Jago isn’t it. The doc’s stitched up me and the boys more than once. Tim is Tim, good people good heart. And Serena - she’s a kitten off the track. She and Isaac are like two of a kind. I mean, as far as crews go? I can tell you first hand, there are worse out there, haven’t seen any better.”

“Well, it sounds like a ringing endorsement.” The grin that had slipped away only as he listened grew back. He stretched and leaned back against the wall the bed he sat on was bolted to, relaxing and obviously considering what she’d said. He flashed a grin again though, easily. “Cyd certified works for me. Hope you’ve spun me up just as nicely for them. Might need the good word.”