sixwordstories | (no subject)

Not in this economy. That would just be stupid.

[ Mal raises an eyebrow. ] I’m talkin' somethin' that will let my crew eat somethin' more than rainbow colored protein chips. Oh, an' a few needed repairs that my ship needs.

Well no, if you turned it down it would be a bad job.

Would you be open to traveling two systems south of here? My transport seems to have...ah...disappeared. [Literally.]

Which system are we talkin' about? [ Mal asks the blonde haired man. ] And how much are you gonna pay me for my services?

Nathan smiles. "Good then my information wasn't wrong," he says his voice raspy and firm. "I was hoping you would transport myself and an important container. Money is no object as long as I an assure your silence on my movements."

What's a good job, then?

Mal turns around to take a look at the man who's asking about a job. "Don't look like you're from here." He really isn't liking the hand he's being dealt, and he's really not sure he's interested in taking on any more passengers.

One that pays good money.

[Thoughtful? Yes.]

No other criteria?

Nathan shrugs knowing he looks strange, A tall slim man in a trench coat meant for someone much shorter. "I'm not," he says carefully having learned that sharing information led to nothing but trouble.

"Name's Nathan," he says trying his best to match the other man's short and sweet tone. "I may not look like much but I'm a fast learner and I can pilot just about anything given the chance."

Mal knows Serenity still has room, and he's got a job that he's got to see about concerning the Greenleaf Mining Guild. He knew this man didn't belong here like the rest.

And, from what Roy told him, he's going to need a bigger crew, a much bigger crew. "I can always use pilots, mine has been complainin' about having to remain with the ship lately."

"I'd be happy to help," Nathan says with a smile, "it's never good for one pilot to be doing all the work. A fight is always better with two watching each others backs."

"Got any other skills?" Mal knows even with Wash's desires to be ground side, Zoe, would have a fit if anything happened to her husband. Mal just lowers his head, and he offers out a hand. "Just try not to eat too much, we're runnin' low on protein chips and everything else right now."

"I'm good with a gun and I'm a damm fine negotiator," Nathan says, "I may not know where the hell I am but I know the language.I speak seven languages fluently and trust me if you need supplies that skill will come in handy."

"Could always use a negotiator," Mal admits, as he lowers his hands back down to his side. "How are you gonna know the language if you don't know where you are? Comes off as a bit of an oxymoron if you ask me."

Ganymede system...oh bother. [He'd forgotten about trivial things like money. The Doctor digs in his pockets, coming up with a yo-yo, a scroll with Martian writing on it, a bag of sweets...which he's all handing to Mal to hold while he's looking for, aha! some currency. Which he switches for the stuff Mal helpfully held.] Will this do?

[It's money but from another planet surely. It looks like different geometric bits of plastic with notches on them.]

[ Mal reached his hand up to rub the back of his neck, and he knows, The 'Verse like the back of his hand. He tried to remember if he ever heard of Ganymede. When he found the answer he tilted his head to the side, and he looked all but bothered about the man asking him to go to a place that doesn't exist. ] Ganymemde ain't anywhere in the 'verse. Now, I know this, cause I've been all over there and back before.

[ The strange bits of 'useless' money just got a snort. ] And, I can't feed my crew on that money, or whatever it is.

Nathan rolls his eyes and speaks in Mandarin to make his point. His accent is horrible, but it's passable enough that he can make himself understood.

"Wǒ shì xīn lái de, dàn wǒ zhīdào zhōngguó rén, dāng wǒ tīng dào tā,"

He smiles. "As I just said. I may be new here but I know Chinese when I hear it. language is universal."

Rainbow colored protein chips? That sounds terrible. Have you tried hydroponic veggies?

What kinda job? [He doesn't need one anymore but...]

Somethings are a luxury, an' fresh food is one of them from where I'm from.

The kind of job that gives me a good payout, and doesn't involve a cargo hold full of cows.

Cows? Sounds messy. So what are ya doin' instead?

Boo! You need a better job.

And just how fast is your ship?

Trust me, they're messy when you got a cargo hold full of'em for a month. [ He raised an eyebrow at the question, and goes to give a shake of his head as a response. ] Ain't about to let you in on much of my doins', seein' I don't know if you're gonna wanna kill me to take my work from me.

That there question is one of those questions that I'm not about to give you the answer to, mama.

[Koschei wrinkles her nose.] Please don't. I'd never deign lower myself to motherhood.

[She reaches into her pocket and pulls out...oh. That's a very big diamond. She raises it up, letting it catch the sunlight and scatter on the dirt.] I suppose that means you don't want this.

Are you sure about that one? [ His attention soon begins to drift over towards the diamond in her hand. ] Cause it looks like you just gave birth to me. [ Mal clears his throat, and he points at the diamond to make sure she got the point. ] I'm sure; some mining outfit on one of the Rim Worlds can use a diamond that big. Anyway, what's the hitch and besides the shiny, what's the hitch and how much you payin' for my services?

I could have had that, but I'm just happy livin' a simple life, ma'am.

[There's a flash of annoyance on her face. Usually, Koschei would take this moment to rhapsodize about the inherent superiority of Time Lord physiology, but she was traveling relatively incognito. It'd have to wait.]

Call it an advance. [She tosses the diamond his way.] Happy Birthday. I find myself in need of getting to Bernadette, as fast as a ship can...[the slightest pause] can safely travel. Above the standard fair for such a trip, as well as paying for a full fueltank before we leave and after we arrive. If the ship or engine takes any damage, full compensation.

[Is she from Dyton? She sounds a bit like it, only more posh.]

[ He watches the look on her, and of course that look of annoyance comes across as some strange victory. A smile etches itself across his face to show his happiness with his own personal victory, but it soon fades back into a serious look once Koschei gets down to business. ]

That's quite the advance. [ Mal catches the diamond in his right hand and holds it up to get a better look before lowering his hand back to his side. ] Can't exactly promise fast nor safe, but we will do what we can to get you there safely. [ He almost wonders if this is a good idea, the woman could be a mole from one of the Core Worlds looking to make good in the reward for River and Simon. ] And, don't think, I don't have my eye on you. You're welcome in the dining and common areas, beyond that everywhere else is off limits. And, if you prove to have other motives, don't think I won't toss you out into the black without a helmet.

Edited 2013-03-29 00:46 (UTC)

Did you just call me "ma'am"? You're like twice my age.

There's no harm in tryin' to be polite, and coming from me that's quite the task.

No, no. Politeness noted. I just would have thought I still count as a "miss". It's my eyes, isn't it? I can be kinda squinty between sun and laughing. I'm getting lines already. 18 going on 43 up in here.

[ Mal blushes at the mentioning of it, and of course he's actually in his fifties even if he doesn't look or feel it. ] I'm just a little backwater, and when you've had forty other hands raising you, it doesn't tend to matter about how old a person is.

If you'd rather, I call you 'miss', I won't argue with you on the point.

Ooh! I like you already. Yes, I'd prefer miss if you don't mind. Or my name, which is Tori by the way. What's yours?

Nice to meet you, Tori. [ He offered out a hand. ] Captain Malcolm Reynolds or Mal to most of the people that know me.

*She shakes his hand and grins.* Another captain! Let me guess, you spend almost all your time on a spaceship.

I don't wanna kill anyone. [He has, though. He hadn't wanted to then, either. He still hates himself for it.] Dad wants me to focus on school, even if I did want a job.