The Best Pilot in the Eight Planets

[Admiral Hart]

Plunder's Heart once again docked at the Cove. The past week had been one of both excitement and tension on the ship. On the one hand, the crew was exceptionally wealthy now. So much so that they were actually losing a couple of the older crewmen to retirement.

On the other, word had traveled like wildfire about the Captain and the Doctor. Whispers covered every corner of the ship, rumors about just what had happened in that vault. And, from the tense relations between Andromeda, Hart, and Morgan, the crew firgured that most of these rumors were probably right.

Hart sighed in her cabin. The crew needed something to take their mind off her personal life. And their new passenger, still frozen in that archaic tomb in the med bay. Andromeda did not have the necessary gear on board to safely thaw her--it was hard to find these days, after all. Cryogenics were a risky business.

Hart passively sent out the docking procedures when something caught her eye. A banner on one of the Cove sites. And then she smiled widely.

"This is Captain Hart speaking." Jo said into her comm. "We have no arrived at the Cove. And, I'm happy to add, just in time for any crew who is interested to sign up for the 'Best Pilot in the Eight Planets' piloting competition. One of you scurvy bastards had better win this one. I'm talking to you, Jane. Hart, out."


------


Elsewhere, already in the Cove, Willie said, "I don't know about this, Miller. I mean, great, you got pirate friends. But we have no clue when they're gonna show up. This place is horrible! You've had to beat three guys in the last three days within an inch of their lives!"

"It's not that bad." The black-haired Mamba protested. "I mean, look. There's even something for you here."

Wille rolled her eyes. "What could I possibly...oh, well, hello there." She smirked at the poster on the wall. "You're right. Things are looking up."

[Willie Barbary]

Willie practically danced up to the registration booth. Miller followed a little slower behind, grinning a little at her excited antics. But more than willing to let her have her fun. This was the first thing that had happened since they'd left the military that had given her cause to be cheerful, after all, and do more than worry and complain and/or bitch, whine and moan about. Luckily Miller was as calm as he was, and seemed to accept that her constant hawing was her way of trying to relieve her stress and nerves. Willie knew that she was being a pain, most of the time, but couldn't seem to help herself.

Miller however took it all in stride, as Miller was ever wont to do.

The small female stepped up to the small line and then impatiently waited her turn, her gold and black nails tapping against her jeans-clad thighs. Finally she arrived at the front, and grinned down at the slender male taking names.

"Name?"

"Barbwire," she pronounced, not wanting to give her real name in case of trouble. Hers and Miller's names had gone up on the mainframe only hours after their departure, with a very fat reward attached to anyone who could give information as to their whereabouts.

The official didn't bat an eyelash to the odd name she gave, merely bent to write it down in one of the still-empty slots. He pushed a credit chip reader in front of her. "Entry fee is a hundred credits."

Willie fished the chip that Miller had given her out of her pocket, and quickly swiped it. The machine bleeped after payment had been received. The official then sighed, handing her a lanyard with a contestant's ident number and a large matching decal to put on her jet. "Contest begins in two hours. You supply your own jet. If you're not here at the starting line, you forfeit your place and your entry fee."

"Oh I'll be here," Willie assured impishly. "You can count on that."

[Jane Doherty]

Jane heard the comment from the captain while she was sitting in the galley. She jumped up and whooped, and quickly made her way out of the ship. She had to sign up for this thing immediately.

She found the line for the sign ups, and raising her hands, she hollared out, "get the hell outta my way. The best pilot in the eight planets, is coming through!" A few of the locals that knew her chuckled and smiled, but the others signing up, just looked at her like a piece of trash.

Jane smirked as the official asked her, "name?"

"Summer," she answered, using her usual alias when it was going into official type records.

The official just told her the usual crap that she had heard a million times before, as she handed over the hundred credits required. He handed her the lanyard and decal, and then she turned and skipped away, back to the ship, in search of a certain engineer to help her get ready.

[Dr. Andromeda Reyes]

Andromeda followed after Butch and Allison as the two boarder crewmen led her into the very seedy Black Market section of the Cove. Josetta had refused to let her venture here without an armed escort, not that the doctor was complaining. She sighed a little as she walked, fists stuffed into the pockets of her white coat that she still wore. Andromeda was glad they had landed here, giving the crew a bit of a break from missions, as well as the constant, rabid speculation on just how far she and Josetta had gone in the vault a week ago.

It was her biggest fear, come true. She was becoming less of the respected doctor, and more of the Captain's speculated love-toy. Only Andromeda's fierce determination and dogged skill--on top of what would no doubt be Josetta's wrath--had probably kept them from blatantly calling her out on it.

Even Cassi was effected, just as she knew she would. The teen couldn't possibly understand everything that was involved in this tangled mess, but the blonde still shot her looks of bland disgust and--strangely enough--hurt betrayal every now and then when she thought Andromeda wasn't looking. She knew that it must be more than bizarre, the idea of her older sister consorting with whom she held as a mother. Yet any other reason Cassi might have for protesting the affair so doggedly was a mystery.

"Och, stick close Doc," Butch suddenly rumbled. The older, somewhat short, stocky Pirate shot her a look over his shoulder. His chin was covered in a scruffy gray beard, anything not covered on him being striped with years worth of battle scars. "Dinnae want tae be gettin' left behind in this den, aye."

His daughter Allison nodded her head in agreement. Opposite of her father, the female was extremely tall, though just as broad as him with muscle. Her brown hair was cut fairly short, green eyes sharp as she glanced this way and that through the press of decidedly unsavory characters around them.

"Watch yersel' Doc," the female murmured, then nodded toward a largish building with several figures camped out around it. "I ken that'd be the best place tae look fer what yer after."

Andromeda nodded, then followed Butch and Allison as they led the way inside. The figures around the door eyed them suspiciously and curiously, but made no moves to stop them. Andromeda let out the breath she was holding in a thankful sigh. Then she stepped forward toward the somewhat weasley looking man in a bowler hat, who lounged in a chair behind the counter.

He grinned a little at the sight of her. "Ah! Well ain't this a pleasant surprise," he crowed, in a thick Cockney English accent, as he let his chair come to rest back on all fours and sat forward eagerly. "A coupla blokes from Hart's esteemed crew. Always glad t'do a spot o' business wit' such fine, upstanding crooks as yerselves."

Allison snorted. "More like ye cannae wait tae get yer hands on some o' our latest take," she spouted, though not unkindly, in her own thick Scots brogue. The man, whom everyone always called Tyke, just grinned shamelessly.

"Aye, word on the street is ye 'ad a bit o fun out on Ganymede a week or so back. Pulled in quite a beauty of a haul, eh?"

"That's fer us tae know, and ye to wonder aboot," Butch grumped.

Andromeda cleared her throat then. "Ah, we're here looking for some medical supplies. Very particular stuff, and somewhat archaic in nature. They might be a little difficult to obtain."

Tyke scoffed, tipping his hat back with a flick. "If they make it, sell it or trade it, I can get it, dove."

Andromeda pulled out a small data pad, and handed it to him. The fencer glanced through it, then his eyes widened a little, blowing out a soft whistle. "Chryo tubes and thaw mats?" He glanced back up at her. "Ye weren't kiddin."

"Will these be a problem?" she demaned, tone cool. Tyke sighed.

"Naw, I can get ye what yer after, dove." His dark eyes twinkled. "It's gonna cost ye, though. This stuff is very tricky to come by. Gonna have to call in a few of me more precious favors to get it." He glanced at the pad again, obviously doing figures in his head. "Methinks I'll need at least twenty million to be able to get everything here. And in any timely sort o' fashion."

Butch immediately growled. "Remember who the bloody hell yer dealin' with, Tyke!"

The weasley man just glared back fearlessly. "Aye, I could say the same to you, old timer. This is my house. My establishment. Ye don't come waltzin in here wavin' your guns around, insulting my hospitality."

Andromeda took note of the shadowy figures suddenly standing on the edge of the room, and cleared her throat to regain control of the situation.

"Ten million," she pronounced, when Tyke turned back to her. He scoffed.

"Ten? Ten, she says. Ten wouldn't pay fer the tubes, lambiekins. I'm not takin' anything under eighteen."

"Fifteen."

"Seventeen, doll, not a credit less."

"Done." Andromeda pulled out her chip and--after Tyke gleefully typed in the amount--she swiped away a little over half of what her take had been from Melrose's treasure hoarde. "When can I expect delivery."

"Stay in port for at least two days, luv," he crowed, tucking the data pad into the breast pocket of his blue tweed jacket. "And my boys'll put your new pretties on board personally. Give Hart my best!"

A moment later they three of them were heading back toward the ship. Andromeda bit at her lip a little. "Can we trust him, d'you think?"

Butch sighed. "Tyke's greedy as all hell, but he runs a tight business. If he says he'll deliver, then he'll deliver."

"Let's get back tae the ship," Allison suggested. "Think I've done enough sight-seein' fer one day." Her father scowled.

"Ye just want tae get back sae ye can oogle that damn sensor offier some more. I swear, ye pantin' any harder yer gonna pass out."

Andromeda smiled a little as Allison turned a faint, ruddy red with embarrassment, for having been called out on the crush she had on Ensign Cook--a rather scrawny, short, blonde-haired, blue-eyed young man who looked perpetually terrified at everything. To say that they would make an odd couple was putting it very, very mildly. Still, Allison would have to get over her somewhat uncharacteristic shyness--and Cook would have to grow a spine--before anything would ever come of it.

"Go tae hell, dad," Alli snapped uncomfortably, before turning on her heel and stomping purposefully back for the ship. Butch and Andromeda followed after.

[Beau Altair]

Beau and Cassi stepped off the Plunder soon after it had docked, the tall gunman with an arm wrapped affectionately around his girl's slender shoulders. Cassiopeia just cuddled into him, sighing a little in contentment and holding an excited Roger close to keep the puppy from squirming out of her grasp.

He and Cassi had had a long, heart-to-heart talk about things that had been going on. She had apologized profusely for hurting his feelings, even unintentionally, but was fervent in her desire to keep helping Christian, and others like him. She had explained as best as she could that she couldn't not help someone, it was just who she was. And Beau understood that. The sugar-sweet affection Cassi held for anyone and everyone was a very large part of why he was starting to fall head over heels in love with her, after all. He couldn't very well ask her to change that. A large part of him didn't want to even make her try.

It was just this niggling dig of jealousy that kept getting him into trouble. He had apologized for doubting her, to which she had sighed and assured him softly that she was perfectly happy with him, and that he didn't ever have need to worry about that. Beau had refused to acknowledge the forceful way she'd said it--perhaps trying to convince herself even more than him--and accepted the words at face value. Then he'd finally gotten around to giving her that diamond and ruby necklace he'd filched from the museum, and after she'd gotten done squealing over it, he'd gotten almost an hour or more of steamy making out from it.

And now they were walking together toward Eight Finger Willy's. With the disgusting amount of capital he'd brought in from the Ganymede job, he would more than be able to afford that M32 Barret Sniper Rifle he'd been drooling over for months. Not to mention several other pieces, to start on the collection he'd no doubt need for what was going to be a life-time of lucrative piracy.

Beau glanced down at Cassi, caught her looking, and bent to plant a kiss to her lips. One she returned with a giggle. Might just stop over at the marketplace on their way back to the ship, too. Every good boyfriend needed to buy a few presents for his girl, after all.

[Willie Barbary]

Willie blew a last kiss in Miller's direction--who just smiled and shook his head a little--before she disappeared into the airlock. The contest was going to be a bit of a space race mixed with an obstacle course, and would no doubt be littered with underhanded surprises, tricks and no small amount of cheaters. Still, it was nothing she wasn't completely assured that she could handle. The small pilot loped her way over to where her Viper jet sat. Reaper's name had been scoured off while in route to the Cove as well as any military insignia, and she'd carefully repainted her own call sign across the nose. The contest's decal was now in place near it.

Ignoring her competition for now, Willie climbed up into the cockpit and then began her launch sequence, the clear hatch sealing shut over the top of her with a loud hiss. About thirty other various model jets and pilots all did the same around her. Willie shifted a little to get comfortable, took a few calming breaths, getting into the zone.

Then her gray eyes snapped open and stared steadily at where the airlock opened up in front of them, revealing the blackness of space beyond and the first few obstacles ahead.

At the loud klaxon, her viper shot out of the lock like a bat out of hell. Neck and neck with a slightly larger Starrunner.

[Jane Doherty]

This is what she lived for, and Jane was enjoying every moment. As the claxon rang, she engaged her ship and shot through the airlock. Looking around, it appeared she might have a bit of competition this time around.

Her speed stayed steady as the obstacles in the course came closer. This was the point when the real pilots were sorted out.

[Willie Barbary]

"Oho! Nice try you sonofabitch!" Willie crowed as she jack-knifed her Viper into a full vertical to avoid the small EMP cuff that the Brigadier class fighter had just shot toward her. They were nearing the end of the course--a harrowing, blood-pumping roller coaster ride that Willie had absolutely reveled in--and now things were really starting to get ugly. Out of the original thirty, only seven were still in the race. and each one was very skilled and very, very eager for the win.

Between avoiding the hazards of the course and the low-down, blatant cheating from most of her fellow pilots, Willie had had her hands quite full in maintaining the lead for most of the race.

Yet she had thus far avoided each and every obstacle masterfully. Her natural, God-given talent was plain for any of the countless spectators to see, who currently littered every glass front of the Cove in the direction the course was facing.

Willie swooped back behind the Brigadier, which had moved quickly to take her place. They were coming up on the last turn. She didn't have long to retake the lead. Moving quickly, Willie tapped her thrusters for an extra--somewhat dangerous--burst of speed. The nose of her jet hit the Brigadier's ass end in just the right spot, sending the smaller vessel careening wide left. Right into one of the deadly spiked discs hovering along the edge of the course. The pilot ejected in a pod right at the last minute, and Willie had a brief impression of him yelling and shaking his fist before she blasted past.

Willie crowed in victory. This was it. She had this in the bag. And then she scowled when that damned Starrunner came up on her port side, again. The damn thing had been tailing her the entire race. Whoever was flying it, Willie had to give grudging props. They were almost as good as she was.

Almost.

Scowling with determination, the curvy pilot pulled out all the stops. She used every trick, twist and maneuver she knew to try and shake that Starrunner. Yet everything she did, the Starrunner seemed one step ahead of. Almost as if the pilot knew what she was gonna do before she did it. Willie growled to herself.

"Goddamned psychics."

Doggedly determined, Willie refused to give up. She kept right on fighting, right to the bitter end. Both the Viper and the Starrunner blasted across the finish line, nose to nose.

Moments later Willie had landed in the docking area and, after the airlocks were closed again, she hopped out of the cockpit and hit the ground below with a thud of her boots. She turned to the Starrunner, which had landed near-by, and watched as an equally small female slowly exited.

She looked a little Asian, maybe a half-blood, her black hair cropped short with blue eyes that glared right back at her.

"If you scratched my paint job, I'm taking it out of your ass," came the woman's husky growl. Willie scoffed.

"Don't worry, hon. I'll pay for a re-do with my prize money."

"Bullshit, that's my prize money," the other pilot scoffed. "I totally owned your ass out there."

"Owned my ass?!" Willie snarled. "Don't nobody own my ass, bitch. Least of all psychic hack-jobs who rely more on their underhanded powers than they do any real skill."

An official hurried up to them then, halting what was no doubt about to become the mother of all explosions. The other pilot backed down somewhat reluctantly, though her furious red face told Willie it was a near thing. Fearless, the mixed girl just scowled right back, fingers clenching, itching for a fight.

The two were taken from the airlock and into the main part of the station. The crowd around them cheered wildly, which settled Willie somewhat. That is until she noticed the other pilot grinning and waving as if it were her fanfare.

The two smaller women were led to the judging booth, where three official looking men sat. They were conferring amongst themselves, and the longer it went on, the more Willie and the other pilot scowled.

"C'mon already!" she finally snapped. "Who the fuck won?"

"Yah, get the lead out of your ass," the other girl snapped soon after.

The man in the middle straightened with a frown and a somewhat aggrieved sigh before he grabbed the mic. "The winner of this year's contest . . . is a draw." Willie and the other pilot gaped, dumbfounded, while the crowd around them roared with disbelief and/or excitement. "A tie between Barbwire and Summer. The prize of 100,000 credits will be split evenly among them. Congradulations."

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Willie screeched. "I was at least twelve clicks ahead of this bimbo! What the fuck do you mean, a tie?!"

"You know full fuckin' well I won that race!" 'Summer' screamed over the top of her. "I always when this fuckin' race!"

Willie whirled on her at the same time she whirled to her. "You didn't win shit, babe," the mixed girl snapped. "You rode my ass the whole race. Sit back and take second place like a good little girl."

"I'll show you second place, you whore!"

The two small females launched themselves at each other with an angry shriek on both ends. The crowd around them went nuts as they hit, kicked, bit, pulled hair and scratched whatever else they could reach.

In the crowd, Morgan quickly stepped forward, but Dane held him back.

"No, Morg! Wait, wait, wait!"

"For what?!" the First Mate demanded scathingly. "For Jane to end up a bloody mess, in lock for killin' somebody, or both?!"

Dane just grinned predatorially. "Dude, you've never seen a cat-fight before have you. Just wait for it. Clothes're gonna come off any minute."

Morgan just glared at him stonily before smacking the Weapons' Expert in the back of the skull. To which Dane yelped, then frowned, wounded. "Alright, alright. Man. You sure as hell don't know how to have any fun."

The two larger men stepped up to the ball of flying hair and clothes. Morgan grabbed Jane around the waist and pulled, while Dane managed to somewhat get a hold of Willie. Enraged, Willie flailed out with her feet, trying to get a last kick in, while the dark-haired woman hissed and made a last ditch swipe with her nails. Now being held against her will by an unknown party, the curvy pilot snarled and raked her nails at the arms that held her, mindless to anything but getting loose and finishing snatching that psychic skank's head bald.

Suddenly Miller was standing beside a struggling Dane, expression cold and blank. "Get your hands off of her," he murmured, tone still calm but starting to edge with darkness. "I'm perfectly capable of holding back my own woman, thank you very much."

Dane just turned to him and then practically tossed the hissing, spitting female at the dark-haired former Mamba. "Here! Fuckin! Take her!" He winced then, staring down at the bloody furrows now crisscrossing his forearms in a grisly patchwork. "Sonofabitch!"

Miller caught Willie to his chest, his arms tightening around her neck and waist when she made to yank away. "Willie," he murmured in her ear, tone soft but steely. It immediately snapped her out of her rage. She panted for breath, blinking a little, lifting up to stare at him. He gave her a small smile. "I think you've put on enough of a show for one day, sweetheart."

Willie glanced around them, saw the sheer amount of people pressing around her, and her eyes widened in dread. She clutched at his shirt a little, letting out a soft groan. "Oh shit."

A moment later a tall, redheaded woman with an eye-patch was waltzing up to them. Willie felt her eyes slowly round in shock, as anyone would recognize that trademark smirk and ostentatious red plumed hat.

"Extremely impressive," the most infamous Pirate Captain in the history of Pirate Captains purred. "Both of you. The flying and the scrap afterward," she added with a chuckle. Then she seemed to take in Miller, who was still holding Willie to his chest somewhat protectively, and her blue eye widened a little with surprise. "Hey, don't I know you?"

[Jane Doherty]

Morgan still held a squirming, kicking, cursing Jane. "Come on Jane, calm down already." He said calmly, which caused her to go limp, breathing deeply.

"That judge is a son of a Callisto whore. I hope a galley rat shits in his meals."

Morgan chuckled and released the volatile woman, who had at last calmed down.

[Miller]

"Actually, yes, you do. The reason Willie and I are here is to see if I can take you up on that offer you gave me on the Vesuvius." Miller said, smiling very slightly.

"I owe you a lot, Miller." Captain Hart replied. "And we just had a few retirees. You're welcome on my crew whenever you want. Your girlfriend too."

"Now wait just a minute!" Jane began. Hart held up a hand to calm her.

"I'm not gonna replace you, Jane my dear. But this little chickadee can handle a fighter quite well. We could use a fighter pilot that knows her stuff." Hart said calmly. "If you want the job."

Willie blinked a couple of times before saying, "Um...okay?"

"Excellent." Hart said, smiling.

"I have a mech, if that's alright." Miller said. "I mean, I'd like to bring her aboard. She's like my little sister."

"Fine by me. You'll have to share a space by Dane's Elsa and those scrap piles we acquired a couple months ago. Just make sure to scour the snakes off the shoulders first." The Captain said evenly.

"Already done." The former Mamba replied.

"Wait.....Jo." Morgan began. The other two crew members were also somewhat apprehenisve at the mention of snakes.

"Oh, please. Miller's a good guy. He's not the only former Mamba on the crew and I doubt highly he'll be the last." Josetta said dismissively. "Go get your things, Miller and Miller's girlfriend. I'll send word to the Plunder that you're on your way."

[Willie Barbary]

Willie chewed on her lip as she let Miller lead the way through the docking area, inwardly a bundle of nerves. And not just because it looked like she'd be sharing a ship with that Summer girl, or Jane, or whatever the hell her name was. She winced a little, the scratches and bite wounds she'd received from the fight beginning to sting painfully.

She sighed, hitching up her bag a little higher on her shoulder as she trotted along behind Miller--who was seeming to forget that her leg span wasn't nearly as long as his in his haste to get on board the Plunder's Heart.

"I still can't believe I let you talk me into this," she huffed, somewhat out of breath. Miller glanced back at her then and, noticing her slightly red face, immediately slowed his gait. He also reached over and snatched her bag off her shoulder, slinging it around his own neck instead. To which she frowned a little, but didn't complain.

Damn thing was heavy as hell.

Instead she continued to rant. "This is insane. A pirate! Do you have any idea how many pirates I've killed in the five years I've been a combat pilot? I've probably killed some of these peoples' relatives or something!"

Miller just sighed, reaching over to rub her back as they continued to walk. "Relax, Willie," he soothed, ever calm. "Everything's gonna be fine."

"And how do you know that, huh?" she demanded somewhat petulantly. Pretending like she wasn't melting next to him and cuddling into his ribs. "I'll be lucky if they don't slit my throat and throw me out of the airlock or something," she mumbled into his jacket.

"Actually," a voice called from behind them, making Willie jump. Miller didn't flinch, though that wasn't really surprising. "With the ridiculous amount of injuries my Weapons' Specialist takes in on an hourly basis," Josetta Hart chuckled from where she'd stepped up behind them, "I'd be much more likely to freeze you and harvest your organs for replacements."

Willie just stared, wide eyed. Miller sighed a little, rolling his eyes. "She really doesn't need any help," he droned, half-amused and half-annoyed. "She freaks herself out enough as it is." Willie blushed then, glaring at him. Hart just laughed. Then her gaze became strangely intent.

"In all seriousness, Miller's-Girlfriend," she pronounced. "If the day ever comes that I put you down, you'll be wide awake, facing me and you'll be armed. That goes for any member of my crew. No yellow-bellied, underhanded traitors are suffered on my ship. At all."

Willie gulped a little, then nodded. After a moment the powerful woman's expression cleared into a pleasant smile once more. "Now, will you be needing one bunk, or two?"

Willie opened her mouth, but it was Miller who replied calmly and matter-of-factly, "just one."

She whirled to him, glaring. "Miller!" she whined shrilly, to which he blinked, slightly confused. "Just blurt out our personal life to everybody why don't you!" Face scarlet, Willie whirled back to the Captain--who was looking far too amused by half--and glared. "Yes, he screws my brains out. And I love every minute of it. You'll probably be hearing more of it than you'd like. Sorry in advance."

Then Willie spun on her heel and stomped away toward the ship, leaving Hart cackling in her wake. "Is she always like this?"

Miller sighed again, partly amused and partly aggrieved. "Yep."

"Hot damn. I knew I liked you guys."

[Jane Doherty]

Jane stomped her way back to the ship. Anyone who saw her face, quickly moved out of her way as she stormed past them through the halls. Upon reaching a specific door, she pounded on it and hollared, "T.K., get your lazy ass out here!"

T.K. opened the door, replying with, "what the hell?"

"That piece of shit ship you supposedly fixed just cost me the fucking race!"

"Hey! It wasn't my fault you weren't good enough to win."

Jane sucked in a deep breath, "you chou wang ba dan. I'd rip your balls off if you even had any."

"Mocca-mocca su su ama. Just because I don't sleep with everything that moves bata, you can just hara guzuchi o tataku na."

"Oh hell no, you chou ba guai, yanse lang!"

"Sentako itay, busu, yariman!"

The two were now face to face, mere inches separating them as they traded insults back and forth. Neither really knew what the other was saying, just that is was derogatory in nature. Spittle was flying as they got louder, causing any of the crew to not go anywhere near that section of hallway.

The heated arguement came to a head about a minute later, when suddenly the heat between them became too much and they each lunged at the other. Their lips met in a heated kiss, hands roamed the length of the bodies, as they lost balance and fell back into the room, the door closing quietly behind them.

[Cassiopeia Reyes-Hart]

Cassi laughed, doing her best to try and keep the food Beau had gotten her out of Roger's slobbering jaws.

"No Rog!" she giggled, causing Beau to chuckle beside her at the overly-eager puppy's antics.

"Here, lemme hold him," her boyfriend offered, scooping the Yorkie out of her arms. Roger protested it a minute, squiggling and whimpering and casting her treat a longing gaze. Then he discovered that he could see a whole lot more of the market area from this higher vantage and soon forgot all about Cassi's food.

Cassiopeia just shook her head a little, then went back to eating as she and Beau meandered through the market. They were drawn up after a while, though, by a rather singular sight. Beau immediately started chuckling, while Cassi just gaped, stunned.

Morgan stood near one of the booths, trying to haggle a price for something. And all around him were at least thirty women, all in various states of undress--sighing, cooing, cat-calling and yelling out lewd suggestions as to what they wanted the pretty First Mate to do to them, any way he wanted, however he wanted, for as long as he wanted to do it. Morgan seemed to be doing an admirable job in ignoring it for the most part, though Cassi could tell his shoulders were a little tense, his face slightly redder than normal.

"Geez," she suddenly spouted, scowling, feeling an irrational amount of anger suddenly pool in her belly like acid. "The nerve of those girls! Everybody knows he's married to Captain Hart, now."

Beau just laughed. "Yah, it's pretty sad. 'Poor' Morgan," he continued to chuckle. When she shot him a look he held up his hands in surrender, yet he was still grinning. "Wha? You can't blame me. The man's got half the female populace of the Cove ready to jump in his bunk at a moment's notice. That'd stroke any guy's ego, I don't care who you are."

Cassi just gave him an appropriate scowl of feminine outrage before whirling forward again with a huff. "If it's such a good thing, why does he look miserable?"

Beau just shook his head. "Because other than being one of the strongest men I've ever seen and one of the best fighters I'll probably ever see, Morgan Halcyon is a complete and total mystery."