Ruan Ji
New Owner: Aiming To MIsbehave – Settling In
by Captain Tyler Redstone
Post Details
Mine.
Tye stepped on board the Ruan Ji. In one hand, he carried the worn leather portfolio of papers, all appropriately signed and notarized, that gave him ownership of this little Firefly Class vessel. Made him Captain. But more importantly, gave him a home. Almost a year since the war ended. A year of signing on other ships. Doing his share of the dirty work. Taking risks for his share of the take. A year of odd jobs and extra jobs and doing without and sleeping with one eye open to make sure that no one tried to take it away from him.
At six feet, he was tall, well-muscled, and lean. His curling, dark brown hair, was worn a bit on the long side, but that wasn't unusual ... not when so many weren't sure where the next meal would come from. The clothes he wore were obviously worn. Standard stuff for the rim worlds. Buff britches over dusty boots that had seen better days. A hunter green shirt, open at the neck. Nothing much to see there either and yet, few people looked past Tye. They stopped at the serviceable guns, worn in tied-down, crisscrossed holsters, and moved upward for a quick look at his eyes. A person could tell a lot about someone by looking at their eyes. Tye's were restless. His gaze seldom seemed to stay in one place long, took in activity of the periphery, didn't miss much. Not welcoming by any means.
Physically imposing. Which was part of the reason why he found work so easily. That and his almost legendary ability with a gun. Greased lightening. None faster on the draw or more accurate. And while that had kept him alive and increased his savings, he wasn't looking to be the fastest draw. He was looking a home. Some place where he didn't have to be quite so on guard, if such a thing were possible.
He stepped into the cargo hold. He'd served on a Firefly before. Knew the layout. He walked slow, taking in the feel of her. A bit worn down. A mite dusty. But comfortable. Lived in. He liked that. He climbed the stairs, walking with long, purposeful strides, toward the crew quarters, the largest of which would now be his. He dropped his bags, three in all, on the bed and smiled. First in a long while, truth be told. Home wasn't a word with much meaning since the war. He meant to remedy that. But first, he needed a job, he needed a crew.
His next stop was the Bridge to send out a wave and connect with one of his oldest friends. Red Dog Hanson, so named for the shock of unruly red hair that encircled his head like a dirty, tangled halo, grinned. "Tye," Red Dog growled. He had a deep bass voice that boomed a bit in confined spaces, filled both his own Bridge and Tye's easily. "How you been?"
"Got me a ship," Tye said as he settled in. "The Ruan Ji. And I'm thinking you and me might meet somewhere. Do a bit of trading?"
"What you got," Red Dog said, leaning forward slightly in his seat. "Because I'm sitting on some powerful good stuff."
"Got a copy of 'Men at War' by a fellow named Hemmingway. Good condition too. Knowing your fondness for battle, I thought you might be interested."
He was the gleam in Red Dog's faded blue eyes even over the cortex and suppressed a grin. You're mine, Tye thought. No question.
"Might be worth what I'm sitting on," Red Dog said. "If'n you throw in a bag of Chen's tea."
"What do you that would be worth that," Tye said, his green eyes narrowing slightly.
"Oooh," Red Dog said, smiling slyly, "I don't know ... how about Sherlock Holmes, the complete works? 728 pages worth?"
"Deal," Tye said. "I'll send you the coordinates directly."
"Make it a big bag," Red Dog said as laughing, he closed the connection.
Tye was whistling as he left the Bridge. He's already read Men at War, over a thousand pages worth of entertainment, four times. And while it had been alright, it was all about war. Not a subject he particularly wanted to dwell on. Now, Sherlock Holmes. That would be entertaining. Maybe, he thought as he stepped out onto the Eavestown Dock, life could have meaning again. Sure be worth a try.
Dinner and a bit of palaver with Chen. Arrange for some supplies. And then, after the work was done, time to settle in. Get comfortable in his new home.
by Captain Tyler Redstone
Post Details
| Title | Settling In | |
| Mission | New Owner: Aiming To MIsbehave | |
| Author(s) | Captain Tyler Redstone | |
| Posted | Tue Jul 20, 2010 @ 10:54am | |
| Location | The Ruan Ji | |
| Timeline | MD1 |
Tye stepped on board the Ruan Ji. In one hand, he carried the worn leather portfolio of papers, all appropriately signed and notarized, that gave him ownership of this little Firefly Class vessel. Made him Captain. But more importantly, gave him a home. Almost a year since the war ended. A year of signing on other ships. Doing his share of the dirty work. Taking risks for his share of the take. A year of odd jobs and extra jobs and doing without and sleeping with one eye open to make sure that no one tried to take it away from him.
At six feet, he was tall, well-muscled, and lean. His curling, dark brown hair, was worn a bit on the long side, but that wasn't unusual ... not when so many weren't sure where the next meal would come from. The clothes he wore were obviously worn. Standard stuff for the rim worlds. Buff britches over dusty boots that had seen better days. A hunter green shirt, open at the neck. Nothing much to see there either and yet, few people looked past Tye. They stopped at the serviceable guns, worn in tied-down, crisscrossed holsters, and moved upward for a quick look at his eyes. A person could tell a lot about someone by looking at their eyes. Tye's were restless. His gaze seldom seemed to stay in one place long, took in activity of the periphery, didn't miss much. Not welcoming by any means.
Physically imposing. Which was part of the reason why he found work so easily. That and his almost legendary ability with a gun. Greased lightening. None faster on the draw or more accurate. And while that had kept him alive and increased his savings, he wasn't looking to be the fastest draw. He was looking a home. Some place where he didn't have to be quite so on guard, if such a thing were possible.
He stepped into the cargo hold. He'd served on a Firefly before. Knew the layout. He walked slow, taking in the feel of her. A bit worn down. A mite dusty. But comfortable. Lived in. He liked that. He climbed the stairs, walking with long, purposeful strides, toward the crew quarters, the largest of which would now be his. He dropped his bags, three in all, on the bed and smiled. First in a long while, truth be told. Home wasn't a word with much meaning since the war. He meant to remedy that. But first, he needed a job, he needed a crew.
His next stop was the Bridge to send out a wave and connect with one of his oldest friends. Red Dog Hanson, so named for the shock of unruly red hair that encircled his head like a dirty, tangled halo, grinned. "Tye," Red Dog growled. He had a deep bass voice that boomed a bit in confined spaces, filled both his own Bridge and Tye's easily. "How you been?"
"Got me a ship," Tye said as he settled in. "The Ruan Ji. And I'm thinking you and me might meet somewhere. Do a bit of trading?"
"What you got," Red Dog said, leaning forward slightly in his seat. "Because I'm sitting on some powerful good stuff."
"Got a copy of 'Men at War' by a fellow named Hemmingway. Good condition too. Knowing your fondness for battle, I thought you might be interested."
He was the gleam in Red Dog's faded blue eyes even over the cortex and suppressed a grin. You're mine, Tye thought. No question.
"Might be worth what I'm sitting on," Red Dog said. "If'n you throw in a bag of Chen's tea."
"What do you that would be worth that," Tye said, his green eyes narrowing slightly.
"Oooh," Red Dog said, smiling slyly, "I don't know ... how about Sherlock Holmes, the complete works? 728 pages worth?"
"Deal," Tye said. "I'll send you the coordinates directly."
"Make it a big bag," Red Dog said as laughing, he closed the connection.
Tye was whistling as he left the Bridge. He's already read Men at War, over a thousand pages worth of entertainment, four times. And while it had been alright, it was all about war. Not a subject he particularly wanted to dwell on. Now, Sherlock Holmes. That would be entertaining. Maybe, he thought as he stepped out onto the Eavestown Dock, life could have meaning again. Sure be worth a try.
Dinner and a bit of palaver with Chen. Arrange for some supplies. And then, after the work was done, time to settle in. Get comfortable in his new home.