[IC] Aurora Dreams: A Firefly Story [M]

[Q]

"Hey, pretty boy!"

Fluke's husky voice rang at the bordello. She expected Qillaero's head to pop out of the window a moment later, but not this time. He was clearly too preoccupied.

"Mh."

She walked on, towards the docks. Though she felt bad knowing he'd take her sudden disappearance hard, it was for the best; where she was going she couldn't bring him along. People had a habit of dying around her and Fluke aimed to keep this one living.

A little while later, the amazonian was strolling past the docked freighters. Save for a Peregrine-class, they were all a little ordinary - probably couldn't make it far. She turned the corner to another segment of the Eavesdown docks and instinctively rested her eyes on a Komodo. Couldn't count the times Fluke and her squad got hot-dropped out of those.

It was either the Komodo or the Peregrine, the more luxurious vessel she spotted earlier. Guessing at a typical Peregrine owner, it was most definitely going the direction she needed to go but she'd rather try the Komodo first and ask where they were heading. Little luck and she wouldn't have to keep up with some pretentious core-worlders.

Fluke walked up to the Komodo-class starship called 'Aurora' and patiently waited in front of the loading bay for someone to come out.

[Nope]

She watched them split. Now what? She felt strongly that the man headed away into the crowd was the captain, and yet she necessarily didnt want to encounter him alone. Better one on one, though, than two on one, right? On the other hand, the woman didn't look any better. Their voices had became lost in the bustle of the street, but something about the way the woman tensed gave Frank an uncomfortable itch. She may have not been as stealthy as she thought.
The familiar weight of the dagger at her hip was but little reassurance. Frank wasnt a fighter. She preferred discussion and information over violence. She had never had to use the weapon. The work she did among the degenerates was too useful to be robbed, or raped, or killed. Since she'd been working for Badger, she'd found the knife to be almost unneeded. He was a snake and a charlatan, yes, but he had a keen sense for business and knew where to place his bets. He took care of his own, as long as they remained useful.
For how long would she be useful?
This is not the life she wanted. This is not what she envisioned as a fresh and shiny new student at the University. The war had changed so many things. The worlds were tarnished by the blood and the anger and the fear. They stank with it, wilted from glorious communities into wastelands. The war had given people like Badger power.
Subconsciously, she'd flexed her fingers toward the knife, but with that last thought, she relaxed them. She would not aid the stains that spread across the galaxy. Her own blood would not salt the earth.
Not today.
Instead, she stepped out of the crowd, into a clearing where she'd be plainly seen. Frank knew she'd been noticed. There was no reason to continue the charade. She waited, eyed fixed on the woman she'd followed.

Standing where Michael had left her Cori paused for a moment while annoyed with the Captain leaving her to deal with their stalker. Glancing up at a window she noticed that the woman had given up what little stealth she had. Not that there had been much, perhaps it would have worked on someone else but the years in the war had given Cori a strong sense of paranoia. Anyone who could sneak up on you could kill you so it was best not to let anyone sneak up on you. She started walking again seeming at first to be heading back to the ship docks until she ducked into a alley. This alley lead into a dead end and really was not anywhere someone might be heading.

Once in the alley she walked to a darkened doorway and stood in the shadows drawing her pistol and holding it at her side as she waited to see if the woman would follow her or if she really had just been picking up on things that weren't there. Often Cori's instincts were right on and she was in danger but there had been just as many times where she had seen shadows following her. This time didn't feel like there was nothing there. This woman was following them she knew it. Now she just had to find out why and deal with it. Without killing anyone as King had said. The plans they had were too important to be found on them if anyone came investigating a dead body.

This was ridiculous. She had used that word so much since the war started. Bleeding, festering wounds were ridiculous, grown men calling out for their mothers was ridiculous. The shear amount of suffering was ridiculous. Her life had become ridiculous. The war made everything terrible.
Instead of confrontation, the woman walked away.
Frankie was on the verge of giving up. Accosting random people for a ride, ship or no, was dangerous. She felt the bulge of Badger's money in her pocket. He paid well, he kept her safe, and he wasnt to bad to look at. She could be doing worse.
A stranger knocked her from behind and she stumbled. The ground rose up to meet her and dust filled her lungs. Quickly, she scrambled to her feet, balling her fists. The person was gone, just some rude busybody without regard for anyone else. Just like every person on these stupid crowded planets.
She shouldnt be here. Not here. Not with ruffians and criminals. She was going to be someone. She was going to make Astair a proper name again, just like her father wanted.
In a flash of emotion, she spit into the dust. Where was father now?
Dead and rotting like countless others.
It was time to leave, whether the decision got her killed or not. It was time to take a risk.

Frankie searched the crowd for a glimpse of her target. She watched the woman taking steps that seemed too deliberate, calculated. So she did know, then.
Dusting the dirt from her clothing, Frank followed. It took some pushing and shoving through the throng of people but she soon began to gain ground.
She opened her mouth to call out, but in that instant the woman disappeared from her sight. Frankie stopped, confused. She surveyed the faces, the clothing, the buildings, searching. A small alley lay in shadow between two storefronts.
Some darker form moved within it before again disappearing from sight. Frankie approached the mouth of the alley but saw no further movement within. She heard nothing.
If she was wrong, she could wind up dead. If she was right....
Frankie put a hand on her dagger and stepped just inside the darkness.
"Hello?!" She called out. "I know you know...um, that I followed you. Probably from Badger's, but Im not-hes not- look, Im not a fighter, okay? Im a scholar." She sighed. She sounded like a git. She took her hand off the knife and held both of them up in surrender. "Im not going to try to fight you or anything. You'd probably kick my ass before I could draw. I was hoping to talk about your ship."

"There is no probably if I wanted to kill you then you would be dead before you knew what hit you. You'd have to ask your maker what the hell happened to you." Cori said, making it clear that option was still on the table as she stepped into the light showing that her pistol was aimed right at Frankie's fore head. The woman was rambling on and Cori could barely make sense of what she was saying. "Scholar huh? Not very bright are you? Following people like me can get you killed. So can associating with people like Badger. What's your business with him?" Cori asked, wondering if Badger had sent this girl along to spy. She wasn't his usual sort of agent but then again Cori and Michael would be able to pick them out in a heart beat. Perhaps a bumbling girl like this one would get past their guard. "Oh and put your hands down you look like an idiot."

Frankie felt her limbs grow cold at the sight of the gun and the woman's harsh words. Every decision she ever made ran through her mind at that moment, and she honestly couldnt think of any other way her life could have turned out. She'd just been doing the best she can with what was left.
"Badger-" She dropped her hands at the snap, but left them visible and away from her knife. "I dont have anything to do with Badger. I mean- I work-worked-for him. Kind of. BUT NOT IN THAT WAY!" She hastily clarified, hoping the unhinged woman wouldnt get the wrong idea. "I just needed work. Im a doctor. It-it was all I could get. I dont want to do work like that-for those people. I just want to go home. I have money. I can pay. Could-could you maybe put the gun down, or away from my face?"

Cori chuckled to herself and twirled the gun around her finger before dropping it in the holster though her hand stay right on the butt ready to draw and she was sure she could draw faster than this woman could get to her knife. The likelihood of this girl working for Badger as a spy was low given how her skin had gone pale at the sight of Cori's gun and her continued stammer. "Doctor eh? Well that's a bit more believable you don't look like the type of girl Badger whores. Tell me though what is a good doctor like you doing in the slums on a rock like this? I thought all you fancy medical type hung out on Ariel."

Frankie blanched at the word 'whore' and felt the heat of embarrassed at the nape of her neck. But the gun was away and she let her muscles loosen. Her shoulders dropped. Her past, or rather her father's, wasnt a secret. It was annoying to admit it but everyone always connected her eventually. There was no point in lying. She already looked bad enough. "My father was Abram Astair so if Im not laughed out of the interview, Im branded as a browncoat." She shrugged. "Gotts eat somehow."

"You say browncoat as if it were a bad thing." Cori said, wondering if Frankie was aware that she was wearing a brown coat. It wasn't a fashion statement as much as it was a statement of rebellion. Most people wouldn't be caught wearing a brown coat even if it wasn't the style of the military. There was a whole industry for dying brown coats another color. Cori however refused to give up the belief she had fought and lost so much for. Just because they lost the war didn't mean they weren't right. So Cori still wore her military jacket.

Abram Astair, she knew that name. Cori had never met the man but she knew who he was. Most rebels knew of the doctor's name. He saved many lives if this girl was his daughter he did enough for the cause for Cori to help her. "The Aurora isn't on a bus route. You go where we go. We don't exactly do requests unless it is to our benefit. Rent is two hundred platinum a week paid in advance. You'll be expected to help out on the ship. Cooking, cleaning, basic stuff. If you cross us I'll space you myself."

Frankie relaxed. She sighed. She was leaving. "Yeah, fine. Whatever." The price was reasonable, she had plenty, in that case, and she had a few things she could sell quickly in the dingy flat she'd been slumming in. Besides that, she had nothing she could not live without. " I have no problem with Browncoats, or rebels....or Alliance, to be honest. Everyone's guts are the same color. I should know, Ive stepped in enough of them." She adjusted the pack slung over her shoulder. "I have a few things to clear up, but if you tell me where the ship is docked, Ill head over once Im finished."

"Get your stuff in order then come to dock A-214, Komodo class ship called the Aurora. If I'm not there tell them Sutton signed off on you." Cori said, holding her hand out for the payment.

Frankie pulled the most recent of Badger's coin from her pocket. She knew it was a shoddy way of payment, the use of it pretty much outlawed. But its what she had on hand, and it could be exchanged for its worth. She weighed the pouch once more in her hand before dropping it into the waiting palm. "Hey, um, thanks. Ill-Ill see you there then."
She backed awkwardly out of the alley, not turning her back on Cori until she was well in the light.

[Dnafein]

Michelangelo shifted in his chair finding a more comfortable position; His feet rested on a powered down panel, next the remains of the Huevos Rancheros and Spanish there. Mikey made them on approach, before he needed to land the ship. His fingers plucked the strings of the guitar across his lap, filling the bridge with music. The pilot played the first song his grandfather had taught him, one that was passed down from one generation to the next.

The pilot's eyes flickered to the indicator for the cargo bay door the first time it flickered. Thats Cori and Other Mike leaving Mikey thought to himself, his fingers dancing across the strings. The pilot closed his eyes and focused on the music, losing himself; It was almost like flying, and like flying things became simple to the pilot.

His mind drifted, even as his fingers did not. The music flowed and Michelangelo squirreled away the indicators that flashed as the ships mechanic took things offline to fix or to make adjustments. The pilot had yet to crack the shell around that one, her abilities would make for some truly memorable pranks.

His fingers stilled for a heartbeat, not enough to disrupt the song. Just enough for him to notice, and resume. His thoughts turning to his crewmates, trying to decide what he should pull next. And who he should pull it on.

Cori was off limits; The last time he pulled one over on her she threatened his guitar. Those words would normally lead to a fight, and following through on them would cause a duel to the death. Michelangelo had no desire to end his life however and so the surly woman was off limits.

The mechanic never reacted the way he expected. Sometimes she'd get furious over some tiny piece of the setup, and others she'd be covered in feathers and grease and saying thank you. The last mechanic he used that prank on slugged Michelangelo before throwing him off the ship.

The doc was almost as odd as Junk. The way the elder crew member just looked at Mikey could just alter his plans. Michelangelo found more than one prank fail spectacularly because he made a change; All because of that stare.

That back; the cargo bay door indicator lit again, the captain was back. And with a smile Michelangelo shifted into a quick dramatic strum. His feet hit the floor and the pilot stood, leaning the guitar against a bulkhead he left the cockpit. Mikey made his way to the kitchen, there was more Huevos down there.

[Ushima]

Michael chuckled. "I felt bad that I interrupted the beat down you were giving those guys. Which was marvelous by the way." Now that they were done running from the goon squad he had time to observe his new guest. She was quite beautiful. Long raven dark hair, flawless skin, heart shaped face and stunning eyes. Her voice was rather lovely to listen to as well. "But I'm no hero. Far from it actually." No, he's lied, cheated, stole and killed too many to ever truly be called a hero. Maybe to some. Those he's helped. Those who's lives he managed to improve marginally by delivering stolen supplies or eliminating threats on the outer rim. Even fending off the odd Reaver attack here and there. But did the good truly outweigh the bad? He didn't know but it was a discussion for another day. "But I guess if you want to call me something that's not the worst thing you can use. Been called all sorts of things."

A new voice entered their conversation. “Have you been busy?” Standing before them was an older Indian woman.

The captain faced the newcomer, giving her a smile, happy to see her. "Ah Anika. We got a job. And this is Mei. I sorta kinda ruined a smackdown she was laying on some fools. Lady Mei this is Anika. She's our doctor on board. Finest hands in the Verse. Can't count the number of times she's dug metal outta my sides." The proximity alarm beeped, someone was outside. "Excuse me. I'll give you a tour in a second Mei." Approaching the door control panel Michael hit the button to lower the ramp. Michael came face to face with a tough looking woman at the bottom of the ramp. Her face was set in a scowl. "Aw what's that look for? I haven't done anything yet." Michael crossed his arms, shaking his head. "Guess I'll get straight to it. I'm Michael King, the captain of this ship. How may I, and possibly my crew, be of assistance Miss?"

[Lleona]

Mei nodded and sent her greetings to the indian woman with a soft smile. It seemed like things are happening on the ship. Since things are about to get busy mei moved out of the way or at least tried to find a place near her where she can't bother the other people on the ship. She was wondering about what was happening but she would ask question later.

So her eyes wandered around the ship once more. Admiring the interior that her eyes can see, when she was done her eyes looked forward to the ships entrance wondering who is the other person that came. Mei touched the pipe and fan that was hanging on her hips wanting to take a little smoke, but it would felt rude if she did so she just refrained and just quietly stood there humming a little as she wait for the next happening and just decided to think about the person she met and the person that was introduced to her. For her king really seemed like a good guy, though she can feel that the guy think he is not base on his comment about the hero. But for her good and bad is not based from their action, but the interest as long there is no conflict of interest with her then it's considered good.

For Anika, she seemed to be a mysterious person. She looked almost looked like an innocent villager, but for the thing's she experienced so far added the time she worked as a companion, the more innocent they seem the more danger they held. But she is in no place to judge. So far the people she met from this ship seems pretty likable. But it's not like she could stay here, it was just coincidence that michael helped her. So maybe after he dealt with all the things he needed, mei might be able to get off.

hah....

She inwardly sighed she was a little bit jealous. Since they are all travelling with each other, while she needs to escape to some place later. What a pity. It might be great if she could join the crew of this ship. But that decision lies on the captain if he would invite her. It would be bad for a companion to show interest before the other.

[Q]

The bulky amazon was yawning a bit while she sat on some crates unloaded by the next ship. Poor Qillaero. She hoped she'd see him again, though not too soon. Her hand patted the dufflebag beside her. It wasn't very full. She could feel the outline of her high-grade battle rifle creating its shape. The gun might've been made before the war, but this was in a time when Alliance had funds to spare. Their successors were of lesser quality and lacked a build-in scope.

The feint clanks from the Aurora's hatch hinted there was someone coming. Fluke's head turned at King while she spat out her toothpick.

"Aw what's that look for? I haven't done anything yet." Michael crossed his arms, shaking his head. "Guess I'll get straight to it. I'm Michael King, the captain of this ship. How may I, and possibly my crew, be of assistance Miss?"

She took a brief moment to stare him down before she spoke. A husky and strong voice responded, tinted with an accent of New Zealand or something in the likes.

"Need to get some place."

She tilted her head a bit. This guy wasn't a browncoat. Judging by his posture, this career soldier would've known her by her feats if he was. She nudged her head upwards to the Komodo, a beacon of browncoat freedom.

"She's steady, cap'n. Quite the prize."

After giving King some time to splendor about his ship, she cut to the chase.

"Which way you flying, boy?"

[Nope]

Francis worked her way back toward where Badger kept his headquarters. The small flat in the dingy, rundown building was all she could afford on the meager existence she allowed herself while saving for a flight and a chance. There was a reason Badger chose this area for his offices. It was ripe with desperation. Easy pickings.
She stood at the door step, and gave the street a glance. There was never a moment here, that didnt involve someone that reported to the crime lord, or someone who would love a chance to. What would he say if he knew she was skipping out? He didnt own her, right? She just took his money sometimes...a lot of times.....all the time.
Seeing no one she recognized, she hastened through the door and up the stairs.

The place was sparse, but as clean as it could be. A small cot filled one corner, a quilt made by a village woman as payment to her father was all she had kept to ward away the chill. She lifted the corner of the blanket, feeling its rough seams between her fingers. It felt more like a hundred years than just over decade. She remembered the incident like a film she'd watched over and over in her mind.
The elderly woman was ill, as she always was at her age. And this time, there was little that could be done. But her father stayed by the woman's side, day and night. He treated her pain. He assisted in her washing and relieving needs. Francis had come when she could, cleaning and cooking, reading to her. And so, to occupy her still vibrant mind while her body failed, the old woman kept the little needle in her frail fingers and sewed.
A winter was coming, frost sparkling on the wind. It was then the blanket was finished and she'd placed a hand over the page Frankie was reading, gaining the girl's attention. Frank looked up from the book, to see the woman's eyes shiny dully.
"I made this for you dear." She rasped, patting the folded quilt. "My whole life is in this blanket." She pointed to a square, "This is a scrap from the dress I wore at my wedding. And this is a corner of a blanket I had made for my first born. But he was born still, like all the others. It never held a babe." A tear shimmered on her lashes, "At least not one of mine." The skeletal hand moved to take Frankie's. The girl felt the cold under her skin. "I wont live forever, not even through this night."
"Dont say that-" Frankie started, but the old woman waved away her comment.
"Theres an end to all things. Some sooner than others. Ive lived longer than any of my children, longer than my husband and anyone I have ever loved. I have no shame in this ending. It is a good one. One that you should hope for."
A cough shook the woman's body and Francis took the newly finished quilt and spread it over the others. She then went to the woodstove and added another log. She looked anxiously out the window for her father, but he had yet to return. He'd gone home to shave and bathe, leaving Frankie to tend to the woman.
Frank returned to the bedside.
The woman had lain back into her pillows, eyes closed. "Finish reading, dear, you have a good voice for stories."
Frankie nodded, opened the old fabric cover to where they'd paused and continued. She sunk into the words, watching the images they made in her head as she read. The fire burned in the woodstove, warming the small cabin.

By the time she finished, the woman's prediction had come true. Frankie closed the book. She tucked the woman in nicely, and cried until her father returned. He'd scooped her up and whispered into her hair, "It doesnt get any easier. Not in one year or a hundred."

Her father had carefully taken the quilt from the woman's body and folded it neatly, he pressed it into his daughter's hands. "All we can do now, is remember."

Francis wiped tears from her cheeks. She gathered up the quilt and shoved it deep within her satchel. Her father was gone, but he didnt have the ending worth hoping for. She wondered if he regretted the actions that lead to his death.
No. He would not have. And neither should she.
To some, Abram had redeemed his name, to others he was a traitor. But she knew the truth. He was an angel among men.

She packed a few changes of clothes, a small book of pictures and paper clippings, what textbooks she had left from the University and put on necklace given to her by a dying soldier in one of the many military hospitals. It was a small silver star, and his name had been Matthias Dirk, from Shadow. She would remember.

Francis gathered up what she had that was worth any credits, other jewelry, books, a second knife, a glass jar of unopened whisky and took it all down to the shop on the corner.
The keeper looked over her wares with a critical eye. She took notice of his tight lipped grimace and knew she'd be cheated.
"Twenty platinum." He sniped.
"Twenty?! That bottle is worth fifty on its own!"
"Twenty."
"Forty."
"Twenty."
"Thats unopened! That whiskey manufacturer doesnt even exist anymore!"
"Twenty."
Frankie took the bottle from the table with a swipe, "Fine. But you dont get the whiskey, you...stupid little man." She dropped the bottle in her bag and held out a hand for the payment. Slightly amused, the keeper dropped it on the counter. Francis' eyes narrowed. She picked it all up and tucked it away before spinning on her heel.

The shop door was a struggled to swing back open, but she got out onto the street with at least some dignity.
Unfortunately, whatever confidence she had had quickly dissipated. Badger stood across the street, flanked by two goons, whose faces only made Badger's looked better. So, she supposed, theres more than one reason to keep them around.
There would be no other reason for him to be standing exactly there, looking exactly here if he didnt already know. she sighed and crossed the street to him. There would be no point in running. The street was full of them.

"Ei there, love. Whats all this I hear then? Taking a trip?" A hand rimmed with dirty nails caressed the tip of her hair. She allowed it.
"Er...yeah, actually."
"Shame. I thought we were getting along so well, you and I. Do you not like my company? You know, that might hurt my feelings."
"Badger-" Francis refused to look at his hired hands and conscripted to talk to him only. "I-" She sighed. She dropped the bag to her feet and dug around for the whiskey. Her strict no drinking policy had worked out. The pressed it into his hands and swung the bag back onto her shoulder. "For the pain of my absence."
Badger studied the bottle. He adjusted the bowler on his head and nodded. "Until we meet again, then."
Francis nodded and moved to turn away, but the man grabbed her arm, turning her back toward him, "And we will meet again."

She pulled her arm out of his grip and walked away.
She knew he'd watch, so for her sake, as well as the crew of the ship she was boarding, she wound through the streets, taking her time here and there at stalls and store fronts.
She purchased a dripping honey cake and was licking the last of it from her fingers when she came in sight of the ship and the people standing around it.

The man she'd seen earlier was talking to another, this one the same form of intimidating as the others she'd met. She hesitated a moment before approaching. It was now or never, there was no way she was crawling back to Badger now.
Wiping the saliva and honey on her shirt front, she walked up to the two and waited until the burly woman stopped speaking before interjecting.
"Hi, uh, Sutton approved me. Or was it signed off? Approved?" She was rambling. "Right. Anyway. Yeah. Im Francis."

[Griff]

Anika shrugged at the captain’s answer, and smirked at his “finest hands in the verse” comment. She was going to speak again, but stopped herself when the cargo bay door opened again. Two more people. Soldier types, by the look of it. Great.

“I’ll be in my medbay.” She said to no one in particular, before walking back to her room. She went up to the communication system and set the destination to the cockpit, the kitchen, and the engine room, so it could be heard by Jun as well. “Michelangelo, expect guests. About three of them,” she hoped her accent didn’t sound too stern, but Anika knew it was hopeless to assume it didn’t, “A companion and two soldiers, or mercenaries. I wouldn’t try anything.”

Her joints ached again. Something was on the horizon. Anika made a mental note to check the stock of her medical supplies soon.

[Heson Shadowbane]

Out behind the ship was a bit of a ruckus, Junk having dove in and out of the cargo bay while no one was around to work on the ship's propulsion with some parts she grabbed. There were two boxes of parts in the bay, one labeled Junk's and the other crew. While part of the crew's wages went to the upkeep of the ship, Junk tended to spend most of her plat on parts herself. She was working with the parts she got out of her container, half sticking out of the port of the system as she fixed cables and replaced some tubing while making sure all the bolts were still firmly secure.

She smiled and petted the system. "I thought you'd like the tune up. Thank you for being patient with me..." She'd slip out of it with a wiggle, her hands, face, and overalls streaked with grease and oil. There were a few things upon the ship itself that could use some checking up on, but she wanted to make sure the outside was finished before they left port again. She started to make her way towards the ship's ramp and just froze. When did all these people get here? So many different faces.... She could already feel the trembling in her bones, the gaze that would turn to her.

So she just did the first thing she could in her panicked mind, run past them onto the ship. She kept her head low so she wouldn't make eye contact with any of them, cradling her tool kit that clanked with the tools inside. She wanted to go back to her engine room to hide, but she forced herself to head to the bathroom to at least wash the oil and grease off her hands and face.

[AngelDellaNotte]

Leaving Frankie she headed to the market deciding to stop by Xao Liang a local merchant that the crew often bought supplies from. His shop wasn't far from the alley she had been in. She found the man standing in his stall talking with several teenage boys who worked for him. At the sight of her Liang sent the two boys away on errands. “Cori Sutton, heard Aurora was in port. You place order?” Liang said in broken English, shaking Cori's hand and bowing to her.

Cori returned the gesture, “Yeah, the usual for the ship but I would like to make an adjustment to my order.”

“Supplies at warehouse. Order won't be ready till tomorrow.” Liang said, moving behind the counter and pulling out a box and setting it before Cori. He opened it showing a variety pill bottles and medical supplies. “What you looking for?”

“I'll take three bottles of Hydrozapam, and a injector with three vials.” Cori said, seeing that he had what she wanted. Hydrozapam was a high level pain killer that could either be taken in pill format or as an injectble. It was even more potent when injected and some used it as a street drug to get high.

Liang removed the medications from the box and dropped them into a small bag, “You need gun too?” He said, lifting the tray out an removing a air jet injector, when Cori nodded he dropped the gun into the bag as well. “Regular rate for the ship supplies. Double your usual order.”

Cori let out a low growl the price was a fair one that was why she liked shopping with Liang but it was getting a little pricey to control the pain. Her body was building up a tolerance to the drugs. She dropped a couple bars of platinum on the counter along with the bag Frankie had given her before taking the bag and thanking Liang. She walked back to the docks stopping in the alley she had confronted Frankie in and sitting on the steps. She took the injector gun and loaded a dose pressing it against her neck and shooting it, the injection left a small red circle on the left side of her neck. The medicine worked quick and she could feel herself floating as the pain faded a bit. She sat on the steps for a while before getting up and walking back to the ship. Outside she saw a group of people standing there and caught what Frankie had just said. “Never seen her before.” Cori said, walking past them to the cargo bay but stopped and turned expecting to see Frankie freaking out. She walked over to her and clapped her on the shoulder, “I'm just screwing with ya. She's good to go.”

Looking to the others she spotted a woman who had the look of a companion to her. The grace and beauty that she carried herself with. It looked like Michael had found a companion for them to used to get close to Sihnon. She wasn't sure if Michael had talked her about the job yet and there was another stranger there so Cori didn't say anything. “Welcome to the Aurora, Cori Sutton the first mate.” Cori said, holding her hand out for Mei to shake. Then she turned to the other stranger and instantly recognized her. “Fluke, son of a bitch.” Cori said, balling her fist and throwing a punch at the soldier.