(This RP is rated PG-13 for the following Action/Violence, Mild Language, (Maybe) Partial Nudity, Some Drug/Alcohol Use, and Crude Humor)
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Sitting back in a chair, strumming his guitar lightly not really playing a song, just enjoying the sound of it. His feet were propped up on a real heavy, real wood table in the middle of the dinning area, which he had bolted to the floor just incase things got out of hand and it wouldn't fly around the room to injure any of the crew or passengers inside the ship. The chairs, which were also real wood, were also bolted, but only one leg with the ability to move it around, but centered on that leg, even allowing the sitter to lean back a little bit. Four chairs on either side, with one on either end. The chair he was sitting in normally had its back to the engine room, as he leaned back in it and looked up through the sky light-like-window and took a drink of his inter-engine fermented alcohol. Granted the stuff was strong when it was fresh, but you let it ferment for a few weeks to a month, and it was ripe, perfect to drink without causing you to lose your breath unless you weren't use to drink it, it also worked great as a degreaser and lubricant for the engine and it's various parts.
As he looked up at the various stars that could be seen through the roof window, he placed his "home-made" alcohol on the floor, and took in a deep breath. The hum of the engine was smoother then the other ships he's been in, not to mention it wasn't as loud as the other Fireflies he flew in when he served or needed to be moved about before he got his own ship. Looking back at it for a few moments, he couldn't believe that he had to replace nearly every part on it just to get it to work right. All the parts were new or lightly used, granted he hated buying things like that, but when it came to his ship, he had to weigh the options and it wasn't in the favor of going with older parts. Taking another swig of his drink, he strummed his guitar some more lightly, this time, looking ahead to the cockpit where the pilot should be.
The pilot, Lidia McElsin, was new, Kris never really heard of her other then some rumors here and there, mainly about her bloodline, but he never actually investigated them since he just wanted a dang pilot to get off the rock he was on. A passenger he had on board was a Companion, Erin Anders, that he let rent out a shuttle so she could use it when they went planet side and to expanded her client base and to let him get onto planets he normally would be allowed on. It was a win-win for both parties, and she paid him for the shuttle every month, which he put mainly towards fuel for the ship. He didn't pocket the money from Erin, nor did he cheat any of his crew. He even paid Lidia out of his own pocket after jobs since he knew everyone needs something at one time or another and a little spending money is liked by everyone.
"The interior of this room needs to be decorated...." He whispered to himself as he took yet another drink from his alcohol and continued to strum his guitar, this time it was that of a soft and sweet melody that was calming. To Kris however it was a memory of a person he knew back in the war that played his guitar to calm the various squads that they were fighting alongside. About halfway through the melody, one of the guitar strings broke, sprung up and smacked Kris in the face, cutting his cheek lightly. "....Grenade....saved six men...." He froze for a moment as he blankly stared into the table. After a second or two, he snapped out of it and stood up, placing his guitar on the table, grabbing his bottle and began to head to the cockpit.
Once in the cockpit, he spoke, "So....you got us a heading to Freya yet or are we still in Dora's orbit? We got to deliver them crates 'member?" The crates in question were picked up on the moon Dora, which was the only moon of the planet Lazurus in the Heinlein system, which also circled within the Red Sun system a.k.a The Red Phoenix system. Freya was the third moon on Brisingamen that was in it's on little system named Himinbjorg, which also was within The Red Phoenix system. "Last I checked, there was a alliance patrol in this system that sticks between Greenleaf and Harvest, so try to avoid those planets all together and stay away from the rock belt that circles New Melborine and Jiangyin.....I don't want to deal with Reavers, and if we have to deal with either, you're getting a smaller cut this time, not the sweet little 20 percent I've been given you since you're the only crew I got at the moment, thank on the lines of maybe 5 percent."
The crates they had, there were six total and were filled with something heavy. Kris never looked in the boxes nor did he care what was in them. He only knew that he was going to get paid 20,000 credits, or 56,000 platinum. Which meant to Kris, it didn't matter what the hell was in the crates, they just needed to be dropped off quickly. "This cargo is burning a hole in my hull....we got full tanks of fuel, the quicker without the trouble, the better." He sat in the co-pilot seat and took another drink of his drink and looked out the windows of the cockpit, zoning out a little.
His ship, a Firefly Series Model 4, he named "Sanguine" due to its red-ish brown color, nearly rustic looking metal, and the fact he liked the meaning of the word. The general design of it was very similar to the Model 3 (the model that was in the show), the only major differences were the outside thrusters, the engine itself, and the outside cockpit design. It did have various other additions and improvements compared to the Model 3 but that would be a long list that Kris wouldn't be able to name off the top of his head. The ship also had similar shuttles, in fact, it could use the same shuttles as the Model 3. He bought this ship, more like blackmailed the past owner into letting him have it for cheap, well, cheaper then what he was asking for it.
[IC] Sanguine : Firefly post Serenity [PG-13]
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