Shift Work (Open!)

Mostly, Brie worked on larger ships that shuttled people and supplies from one plant to another, typically bringing new technologies from the central planets to the outer ones. Occasionally it went the other way, when a planet had an unforeseen disaster (or were well aware of an impending one, and people were fleeing), and Brie was a preferred pilot for that. She had been careful to tell her supervisors she'd spend eleven years of her childhood on a planet that was in its first years: she knew how those communities worked, she knew their priorities and she knew how to set down a craft where it'd be most effective.

For the first few years after leaving pilot school, Brie's jobs had been few and scattered, leaving her plenty of time to spend time on both her home planets and eventually buy property on Beaumonde, where she had a choice of both of her worlds. There was the industry - the main reason why Brie's flight paths had included this planet in the first years, and there were the farms - why Brie had fallen in love with the planet after two stops. All it took was a few hours worth of flight time to get from the port to her ranch, but she tended her fly her personal craft more slowly, taking the time to treasure the transition from city to fields.

Occasionally, Brie stopped for a drink in one of the many pubs before heading out, not favoring any one in particular. For those trips, she wore nothing that showed her relationship with the Alliance, nor did she wear a brown coat. Ranch boots and a loose cotton shirt did just fine for the job, allowing her to relax and sip her drink as she watched the news or the other people around her. The door behind her opened, and she paid it no mind, thinking of the chickens back home and if Grandma Fen had been feeding them properly, or wondering if she was going to come home to some unusually fat hens, a few shy of how many she'd left. The pilot took another gulp of her drink before sitting back in her chair, focusing on the screens above her to see the reflection of who'd just entered.

Jevon Ecoaly by any better definition was a Smuggler, now he would never tell you this to your face, especially not if you were an Alliance official, no he just say he was a simple ship captain, just trying to make living out in space. but smuggling was his really did, so when he decided to stop by Beaumonde to see if he could find work, he felt nothing wrong with snooping around for odd jobs only his profession could accomplish. He docked his transport ship and head off into the city.

Jevon like Beaumonde, large cities mixed in the countryside. The perfect place for someone in his line of work to lay low for awhile and even pick up a job or two. Much like  most of the planet had its many manufacturing plants, Beaumonde had just as many bars. And Bars were a smuggler's best friend. All shorts of information was passed in around in here, from the Alliance next trade routes, to who was selling what and need a ship to get where. So when he pushed open the door to one only of the local pubs, only to be welcomed by the scent of sweat and stale beer he knew he was in good company.

Jevon strolled up to the bar, dress in navy long sleeve shirt, plain tan pants stuff into the ends off boots, this part of his attire wouldn't get much off a second look from the locals. What usually did was the long brown coat he wore with it, which was just a shade darker then what the independents had worn in the war and Jevon made sure it looked that way. The bartender eyed him as he approached "Bourbon, my good man" Jevon said leaning on the bar. As the bartender hurried off Jevon looked over the girl sitting next to him. She was dressed in Ranch boots and a loose shirt, probably just another local. "Hi there" he said with a smile.

He was, indeed, tall, and did, indeed, have a long jacket. Brie, at least, could be pleased with her screen reflection guessing skills. It hadn't been possible to see the dark color of his jacket in the reflection, but Brie guessed he knew he wasn't fooling anyone - that coat was brown. Brie had been young when the war was skill being fought, and she was fairly certain she'd been on Whitefall for the duration, but her parents had kept her safe and sheltered from the unpleasant tidings. The move to Boros had been well after the war had wrapped up - her father would have never been comfortable riding a large ship when the tensions of conflict were still running so high. Brie's father would have said this newcomer was a brave fool, but her father was the Alliance's man.

Brie raised her glass to her lips to continue her drinking, though the thought of bourbon gave her pause. Somewhere between entering and leaving school, she had lost her ability to drink hard alcohol unless it was severely diluted. Bourbon had never been a drink Brie had been curious about, but the idea of it made her stomach tighten. Beer was the best drink, in her opinion, but she'd learned early to not get into the "better drink" discussion with anyone other than her parents and old Mr. Rivers back on Whitefall, who could actually make the process of distilling fascinating. He'd been the one that had taught her to fly her first craft, and his opinions held a special place in her heart.

The browncoat leaned on the bar and looked Brie's way, and there was no point in hiding that she'd been watching him. Sure, the Academy taught observational classes, but they were by no means covert operations classes. They were taught how to get details by watching, listening, feeling, but never about getting those details quietly. His scar did draw attention, so she let her eyes be drawn to that, knowing she posed no threat to him. Mr. Rivers would've been a Browncoat if he had gone off to fight, but he had stayed home to make a living for his family back on a central planet. Putting her beer down, Brie returned the smile, briefly running through her usual set of half-truths. Most people in Beaumonde would be forgiving enough of her Alliance ties, but not this one. "Well hi, this your first time in Beaumonde?"

Jevon saw her staring at his scar on his face. It had been a gift from an Alliance soldier during the war. If he had the money Jevon could have got the thing removed, but he like it, it reminded him if what he had been fighting for and that most things in this world always come with a cost. Also it gave him a more serious look when he had to be intimidating at times. Nothing like a scar on your face get your point across when you’re trying to get information from someone and always a few chose words help as well.

Jevon looked around the room, most of the other patrons where keeping to themselves. Having quiet conversations and just trying to relax from after work. He wasn’t interested in these people what Jevon was looking for was certain type of Bar patron, the one that usually sat in the back, trying their best to stay inconspicuous. These were type of people Jevon looked for when it came for work. He eyed the back booths most were empty except for a few couples trying to get some privacy. Whoever he was looking for hadn’t shown up yet it seemed.

The bartender returned with a small glass of bourbon, Jevon thanked him. He took a sip before answering her question. “Oh no, I pass through from time to time, looking for work” Jevon said took another glance around room. His eyes finally resting on the girl next to him. He took another sip of his drink “what about you? I’m surprised to see a girl like yourself hanging out in a bar on one the Outer Planets?” He gave her another smile, trying to seem friendly as he tried his best to read her.

He looked around, focusing on the back half of the bar, where lights were permanently out, no matter how much the establishment made. Then again, Brie doubted that the bar's owner cared much about maintenance as long as the Alliance didn't make their presence known enough to scare off the questionable business. That was an aspect of the trade that has always interested Brie - how exactly did the bars benefit from smuggler's patronage? A few beers every once in a while hardly seemed to be worth the price the Alliance's officers would make them pay, if whispers made their way into the wrong ear. It wasn't often that the police were alerted to illegal activities, and certainly not within the time frame necessary to catch them. That, Brie supposed, would be why bars like this would be the home of the black market.

The bartender returned with the bourbon, and he answered her question. It really wasn't a surprising answer, but Brie found herself raising her eyebrows in shock, anyway. A Browncoat stopping in town to see if there's any work? No, her sarcastic side chimed, prompting Brie to take another drink of beer. She took a long blink and focused on her beer as she set it down, careful not to make eye contact while he still smiled. Yes, Breaca liked coming to the various darker bars before she headed home for some time off between the longer flights, but no, the pilot did not bar hop to flirt with the clientele. Sure, he was attractive enough, but if he ever saw the contents of her bag that rested on her thigh, there would most likely be guns drawn. No matter how she dressed, her pilot license and Nemesis crew member papers were never far from her side, in the off chance she'd need to rush back before she could put her uniform back on.

"I live here," Brie replied smoothly, eyes going back up to the screen she'd used as a mirror before. Chinese characters scrolled by, detailing some part of a rather unimportant story: some celebrity in the center planets had dismissed the presence of a different celebrity in some region or other. The main program was not subtitled, and there was minimal volume, just enough to cover the whispers of those in the back booths, not quite enough to be heard clearly at the front. Looking back at the man, Brie decided she knew what he meant by a "girl like her." She was clean, and so were her clothes, and really didn't fit in with the dinginess of the bar. Her hands were not as large as any working woman's and barely callused, showing that the land was not her source of income. "Not in the city, closer out to New Dunsmuir where the land's better," Brie clarified, specifying vaguely enough that she did not live in the industrial or the tourist regions, but in between, where it was not an ocean. A few other cities existed in between the two major ones, but not many, and more than a few thousand farms, most likely.

When she didn’t smile back, Jevon took that as a sign she wasn’t interested much in conversation. And he couldn’t blame her, he wasn’t exactly here for conversation either. Her living here was no surprise, but when she mentioned that she lived closer to New Dunsmuir that caught his attention. Why would a country liver be in place like this, by her looks she wasn’t a factor worker or a farmer. She could have money which would explain the clean look she had, but if she was that, then she wouldn’t be caught dead here. No, this girl was something else and there were only a few jobs that he could think of that fit that description. Jevon would be keeping his eye on her. “Always like that area, less of the hustle and bustle the larger cities always tend to have.”

Jevon watched what was being shown on the screen. Some unimportant story that he really didn’t care about. Along with that was another Alliance propaganda about how they’re bringing you peace and safety out here in the pouter planets. Jevon just rolled his eyes at this. Instead he watched the reflection of the door in the screen. Three men had just entered. They made their way to the booths in the back. Bingo, Jevon finished his drink and paid his tab “It’s been nice” He said to the girl with a wink, then made his way to the booth in the back.

“Gentleman, Marco, it’s good to see you again” Jevon smiled to them as he took a seat across three men. The one in the middle nodded to him, Marco, was a smaller man dressed in a fine cut suit with combed over hair and a neatly kept goatee. But don’t let his appearance fool you. Marco was one of the successful black market dealers on Beaumonde and Jevon didn’t trust him one bit. “Been some time.” Marco said “You remember Bringo and Riggs” He indicated to the two larger men sitting on either side him. Jevon nodded to Marco’s thugs. “So what is it that I can do for you Mr. Ecoaly?”

Brie smiled a courtesy smile, he had paid her home a compliment, after all. Maybe her clothes had been too clean from being stored on the ship, where uniforms were strongly preferred over civilian clothes, but he looked at her differently. At the end of the day, what he thought of her, really didn't matter. The truth wouldn't make him trust her anymore than he did already. He'd already classed her into a group based on their conversation so far, much like she'd assumed he was a veteran on the war. Without too much extra time, he paid his tab and moved to greet figures Brie found unfamiliar, leaving her to enjoy her beer alone again.

A few people hung around the bar still, but on the other side, giving Brie a large amount of space, a buffer of sorts between the black market and the Alliance. A small number of booths filled and emptied while she finished her drink, and eventually shook her hair out of the braid it'd been in since she woke up. Her hair reached her midback, longer than what the Alliance recommended, but far shorter than what it had been on Whitefall. No one was able to tell that her hair wasn't standard when it was up, and the length of it did help her hide from coworkers when Brie didn't want to be seen. Just as she finished running her fingers through a knot, the door opened again, and Brie, per usual, looked at the silhouette.

Quietly, Brie placed some cash on the bar and stood, turning so she wouldn't have to look at the face of her ship's mechanic until the last moment. Hopefully he would look her over as she passed, looking for someone dressed in less practical clothes. Forcing herself not to rush, Brie walked to the door, finishing her turn slowly as possible, before she felt a hand wrap itself around her shoulder and push back, so she was standing and facing Al. Al, out of everyone, knew Brie's rules the best - no one made her go back to the dock until her leave time was up, and that was two weeks from then. To his credit, Al wasn't wearing his full uniform, but the look of disbelief on her face was obvious.

“Just looking for a little work Marco, nothing big, just a little extra income…” Marco smiled his white teeth sticking out in the darkness “Well I’m sure I’ve got a job or two laying around somewhere, now about our payment from the last job you did me.” Jevon eyed the man “I told you, you got your money.” Jevon reach done below the table to his side feeling the handle of his pistol there. The door to the bar opened and for a second Jevon’s gaze shifted to see a man walk in, without a thinking he looked over at the bar. The girl was getting up to leave. And although it was subtle he could tell she was trying very hard to not get noticed. Right before she made it out the door though the man reach out and stopped her, Jevon could just make out the look of disbelief on her face.

None of your business, so it’s best you not get involved, Jevon told himself. He looked back to Marco “Listen Marco we’re reasonable men here, I’m sure we can work out a deal.” The word deal brought a smile to Marco’s face, it made Jevon’s stomach turn. “Well Mr. Ecoaly, what kind of deal did you have in mind?” Marco put his hands together and leaned forward “70% of whatever I make from our next job, now that’s more than our usual fee and should clearly make up for my last job.” Marco leaned back and strummed his figures together to look like he had to think it over. But Jevon knew his game, he wouldn’t pass up a deal like this.

“Alright you have a deal, I’ll have my people drop off what I need moved along with its coordinates” Jevon made sure not to smile as Marco jumped at the opportunity. Some people were just too easy to read. “Been a pleasure doing business with you Marco, boys” Jevon rose from the table and headed for the door. He stopped though when he neared the girl. Jevon mentally punch himself for doing this but he leaned against a wall, trying his best to look inconspicuous as he watched the two.

"This is not the place for this," Brie whispered, moving her shoulder slightly to test Al's grip. He raised his eyebrows slightly and lightened the pressure from his hand, only because they were friends. The both of them knew that once Brie was outside, she'd make a run for her personal craft, and that was a scene Al would like to avoid, as he would almost certainly catch her. A few more seconds of silence passed before Brie sighed, her look of disbelief replaced by annoyance. "Why are you here?"

"Our favorite little pilot changed the nav controls on Nem," Al spoke barely louder than she did, though his voice carried better than hers. Nemesis was large enough that they needed more than one person for each role - Al was one of five mechanics, Brie one of four pilots, though three seemed to be the most the Alliance could staff at any given point. Al was chief, and Brie was in the better half, skill-wise. It was really only experience that held her back from being in command, and the second ranking pilot held her in contempt because she had broken his record the first month at the academy. Brie and Al had formed a friendship quickly, and pet names for the other crew members soon after. "We can't move her to a better dock for work, can't find Polluck, and I'm sure as hell not letting Butterfingers try to help fix the overrides."

Brie rubbed the bridge of her nose, searching for nearly any excuse to not go back to the ship. "This is my problem, I'm on leave," she whined, knowing Al was going to find a way to get her to go back, especially if they hadn't found Polluck. "Why can't someone from Central put in their fancy codes?" She continued, knowing the answer already. Nemesis was from a different ship generation, and Central was always looking for reasons to take her and her mission away, claiming there were better ways to service the outer planets. Al stepped back and gestured to the door, taking his hand off of her. "You're paying for all of the chickens Grandma Fen's eaten," Brie informed Al before she walked out the door and to her craft, just slowly enough that Al would know she wasn't bolting. Nem had an awful name, but it was her ship, and would be until Al had given up on her completely.

Jevon watched the two. Whoever the guy was the girl hadn’t expect him to be here that he was sure off. They spoke in a hushed tone but Jevon picked up bits of the conversation. Nav controls, Nem, Central, Pollock and butterfingers. Not a lot of it made any sense. But Nav control would mean a ship which would mean that the girl was a pilot.Judging by the girl's look she had o interesting in going back to the ship. Nem sounded like a ship, Jevon went through his list of Ships that he knew of, and there was only one that stood out. The Nemesis, an Alliance battlecruiser back during the war, most browncoats knew of its reputation. The last he’d heard it had been refitted to be used for more Outer Planet work though. And Central meant one thing…Alliance. Jevon watched the two head out the door, he hurried out behind them.

He hung back and tailed the two. He knew something was off about that girl, she was too clean, to alert to be some local. She was Alliance and that meant sooner or later she would figure out who he was. But an opportunity like this wasn’t something he could pass up. If he could get info from these two on Alliance movements maybe figure out what the Nemesis was carry. Info like that sold for a pretty penny on the black market.

Jevon’s reach down and removed the gun from his hip. The pistol was massive, a costume made hand-cannon he had made back during the war. He called the Negotiator, and the cannon had enough kick that at close range you could blow threw most body armors and steel plating with it. Made it real nice when negotiations broke down.  Jevon checked the clip make sure it was loads, then fitted back in its holster. He hoped he wouldn’t have to use at all, hopefully the two would be cooperative, but if Negotiations broke down, well then he would have to.

When he saw they were heading for a personal craft Jevon knew he had to make his move. “You know I would have never taken you for Alliance.” He yelled at them, Jevon moved his coat aside so they could see his gun.

The two Alliance members had nearly made it to her skimmer when they heard the Browncoat and his opinions. Brie continued to cross the last few feet, turning on the engine and the minimum necessary electronics as fast as she could, before turning around to see Al looking at the Browncoat, hands in his pockets. "Hear that, Brie? You've gotten better at hiding your spiffiness," Al commented, loud enough the Browncoat definitely would've heard. The mechanic had seen the gun and still stood fairly relaxed, while Brie remained light on her toes. The two had been in this situation at least once before, though Al had typically been the one drinking and talked a little to much about the type of engine he maintained. It was an entertaining turn of events and Brie slowly took the steps forward that put her even with Al, watching the Browncoat's hand, ready to drop and roll if his hand got too close to the grip.

Brie had always had a fairly easy time separating the two portions of her life, Alliance and local, but the higher she climbed in her job, the harder it was for her to escape. "Yea, getting a pint really helps lose that spiffiness," She replied dryly, eyes going back to the Browncoat's face, guessing what would come next. He would commit her name to memory, but that didn't really matter much - pilot names were far less commonly known than captain names, especially Alliance pilots. Brie knew the names and faces of those she'd attended the Academy with, but that was the last time she'd seen them, or heard about many of them. He'd have a tough time tracing her from her preferred name alone. A pilot and mechanic together in public was also not so unusual - those two roles were always friends, as the plane only flew its best if the pilot and mechanic were in constant conversation.

Next, he'd want to know something that she and Al couldn't tell him, either from genuine lack of knowledge or complete disinterest in answering. "So what is it you're wanting from us?" Brie asked, her tone flat and only slightly bored. "You already got the coat, so it's surely not ways to look less like Alliance," she continued, rotating her ankle in her boot, verifying that her knives hadn't changed position since she'd last checked, leaving the ship for her personal leave time. Usually, people wanted to know how to get in the dock to damage Alliance ships, and that was easily taken care of - steal some uniforms from laundry and tell them the docking positions of some of the more prominent ships that could be verified from someone else. Occasionally, they wanted to know flying routes of ships Brie had never heard of, which made for some interesting fast talking.

The two were too calm, which wasn't good. When you're trying to get information from someone, if that someone doesn't believe you’re a threat, getting them to spill secrets was about as easy as trying to force open an oyster with your bare hands. Try all you want their lips were going to stay sealed. Jevon had two options here; one either draw his gun and hope they'd be willing to break by force or two play along, hoping that they would slip up and say something they shouldn't have. Being out numbered didn’t help either. The girl he figured he could take, but the other fella was questionable. Trying to take on those two together would be a challenge, and any challenge like that would lead to incent people getting hurt and Jevon wouldn’t have that.

"Oh the coat, got it on sale." Jevon moved his hand away so his coat covered up his gun. "I was just wonder if you two could give me lift back to my ship, I figured Alliance folk like you would be willing to help out a citizen, plus it’s safer then traveling alone." Jevon put his hands in his pocket and walked forward “I had happened to here you guys talk about ships and I figure you’d be heading to the dock.” In a situation like this the greatest thing one could do was stay calm. Get anxious and you’ll get people hurt. Jevon figured they would have expected him to try to get information from them by force. Ask generic interrogation questions like what are the docking codes, who is the commanding office for some ship they’d probably never heard and what ship is expect to go where and on what route. 95% of ship personnel had no idea how to answer those question, those things were left up to captains and high ranking officers.

Jevon knew this because he had experienced it firsthand. Back during the war Jevon had seen both Independents and Alliance troops captured and questioned alike. He remembered breaking through Alliance lines at one point during the campaign on New Kashmir and rescuing solders who had been captured there. They talked about, how the Alliance officers would drill them for information on things they didn’t know. That’s why if he tried to get information the humane way, through brides and basic thievery. Anything to lessen people getting hurt.

Brie relaxed as he let his coat fall over his weapon, even if the change wasn't visible. With his coat down, she'd definitely beat him to to her knife before he drew his gun. The two crew members glanced at each other after he posed his question, Brie with a small frown and raised eyebrows, Al with a slight and hesitant shrug. He took some steps forward and she looked at him again, weighing the options. If he came with them, he'd need to surrender his gun for the duration of the trip, and most likely all other weapons he had on him. Hopefully he was smart enough to realize that harming the pilot mid-flight was never a good idea and would just ride peacefully, and depart just as easily. It wouldn't hurt to get his name while they were negotiating, either. Brie still had enough friends out in the middle of Whitefall and Beaumonde that would help her find a Browncoat that had stabbed her in the back.

It, of course, depended on where his ship was. Brie doubted he'd parked at the Alliance-dominated docks, and Beaumonde was big enough that the city itself had more than one dock, a good distance from each other. "You got yourself here, don't really see a reason why you need to ride back with us," Brie began, knowing full well that if she could get here in plain clothes, he would do just fine getting back. Of course, he looked posh enough that a mugging or two might have happened, but that gun gave the man a decent amount of confidence Brie couldn't argue with. Then again, she flew over the industrial portions of Beaumonde, no reason to walk where she couldn't see the sky in this part of the planet.

"Where you docked at? Apparently we're on a time crunch-" Brie looked at Al, who shrugged and nodded. It really wasn't time sensitive, Butterfingers was off of the ship before Brie had been, "- so as long as it's on the way." Depending on how he handled himself, Brie would consider making special requests, as long as she could get home to her ranch sooner rather than later. If he had docked closer to her home, then she might be willing to enter in a few commands on Nem before swinging around to drop him off, or leave him in the middle of Alliance controls next to Nem. It all depended, and Brie was waiting on him to make the final decision.

“I’m closer to New Dunsmuir then probably your ship, but I do remember you mentioning you lived around that area” Jevon flashed a grin. This was a dangerous game he was playing, he didn’t trust the girl or the guy she was with. But at this point trust wasn’t really something that could be earned, you just had to roll with it and see where you landed. He knew protocol, they’d make him handed over his weapon along with anything else he had on him that could do harm. Which wasn’t a problem, Jevon was good with his hands. Plus if either one tried something now, he had the upper hand, He was faster than most people expected. They’d probably ask him his name, which Jevon would give them a false, since the ship was under another name anyway. If they tried to track him, well that would be difficult. He had spent enough time hopping from planet to planet, that his records weren’t exactly up to date.

Jevon had no interest in getting stuck in an Alliance control sector either. His ship wasn’t exactly close to New Dunsmuir, but it was closer then where he was now. He’d taken a transport shuttle to get here when he had landed. So he could take that to get back, but Jevon wasn’t going to tell them that. As far as they knew, he was just so Browncoat looking for a ride.

“I’d be willing to help out in some way if you’re short on time.” Jevon hoped he could use this to his advantage, maybe it would give him a chance to get to know the girl better and if would allow Marco’s people to finish up loading their goods before he got back. Jevon needed to see the Nemesis if it was here in Beaumonde he had to know why. Alliance didn’t just drop by to say hello, Beumonde was an industrial so they had to be here to pick up something.

He was stubborn, Brie couldn't deny that. Neither she nor Al could pinpoint exactly what he wanted, but there was a good chance he'd be able to get it. The idea of him 'helping out' was interesting, but what exactly would he help with? There was no way Brie or Al would let him continue on with just one of them, and while Grandma Fen would almost certainly love the "young war hero," she did not dare risk him knowing so much about her life. However... Brie crossed her arms and looked at Al, narrowing her eyes as a plan hatched. Who knew if it was going to be a good plan, but it was a plan. The browncoat clearly had no plans to ditch the coat, so he might as well go where they did. The closest he would get to Nem or any other ship would be at least a couple hundred feet - too far to see any potential damage that brought ships in for emergency maintenance or general repairs, and plenty of cadets that wouldn't leave him alone until she and Al sent them off.

"You know, there's plenty of docks with shuttles 'tween here and the Alliance port," Brie said, watching Al's face before turning to examine the browncoat's. "I don't see a great reason to take you to the hub with us, though." She could tell Al was catching on quickly, and surprisingly OK with the plan. Sure, he was anxious about it, but so was she. If the browncoat really tried anything, there would be plenty of armed Alliance officers to "subdue" an angry veteran, but Brie's gut was sure there would be no excessive trouble from him, just some bad flirting. Slowly, she shifted her weight to one foot before turning to climb onto her craft, still watching her crewmate and bar friend. Brie and Al could get out of the alley pretty quickly, but likely not before he got some rounds off and put some holes in her skimmer. That was not ideal.

Leaning against the controls, Brie positioned her bag where it wouldn't fall (even during a barrel roll), using the opportunity to loosen a knife or two in their sheath. Al placed his hands on his hips, considering their options. "I bet you've killed enough time that even if we took you directly to your ship, your presents will be there and your friends gone," Al took his time getting the words out, giving Brie time to move next to him. "But hell, Brie's a sympathizer to your cause, we might be willing to smooth your road for ya," Al continued, despite a dirty look from Brie. Oh sure, let's just tell this smuggler that an Alliance pilot might as well do anything to keep the rebels happy, she thought, drumming her fingers against the dash as her only other physical objection to his words.

"It does depend on that help you're offering." Brie finished Al's sentence, applying enough of a flat tone  to encourage the browncoat to not take Al's words too seriously. Butterfingers would love any chance to get her out of his path - she didn't need to give him any excuse to start spreading rumors.

Jevon had to play his cards carefully here, he didn’t dare make a move anything now would ruin any chance he had on getting a look at that Alliance ship. No, now he had to rely on his wits and whatever charm he had to try and talk his way on to their skimmer. He could always shot them and take the ship, then use whatever credentials they had on them to gain access to the Alliance dock, but that idea left a bad taste in his mouth. No need for violence and unnecessary bloodshed, plus the girl was already near the controls. She’d be gone and out of here before he got any good shots off.

Instead Jevon watched the two, man talked but Jevon wasn’t focused in him, He watched the girl. She moved in front of the skimmers controls and began setting up to leave. He made note of where she placed her bag, as the older man talked Jevon did catch a few interesting comments. The girl’s name was Brie and apparently she was somewhat supportive to what the man called Jevon’s cause. This was also something he made note of. But, in the end of the day she was till Alliance and that meant he couldn’t fully trust her.

Brie asked him what kind of help he could offer “Oh, I don’t know, I could pay for fuel, maybe offer a hand or two with moving some cargo. Anything to help get you guys on your way and me back to my ship little faster.” He wasn't in any hurry though to get back just yet, Marco still had to load his goods and besides its not like the ship would leave without him. He moved up so he was closer to the man “let me introduce myself my friends call me Jevon, at your service.” Jevon held his hand out for a shake.

Al politely took Jevon's hand and gave it a decent shake. Brie knew from experience that the mechanic didn't try to crush the other's hand, but did flex enough muscle so that his hand would be impossible to squeeze. Al didn't reply with his own name, probably because no one could vouch that Jevon had told the truth. Leaning against the controls, Brie watched as Al turned, gesturing that Jevon would be allowed to fly with the duo. Brie straightened her back and moved her hands to a more conventional piloting position. Al would "let" Jevon board first, giving both of them a chance to see how the stranger moved. If he tried anything that would harm Brie or Al, the other could at least take some measure to prevent the other from being killed or severely hurt. Only after Brie felt safe with Jevon seated would Al board - Brie revved the engine without making eye contact. Eye contact meant she was going to do something incredibly stupid that usually ended up with the stranger on the ground.

Brie thought that Jevon wasn't going to pull anything stupid - he wanted to get to the docks desperately enough. Al didn't trust Jevon, and had no problem making it known. While she waited for Jevon to board, Brie used the time to watch him and run another threat assessment. Sitting close to someone at the bar had plenty of advantages, but there were also many disadvantages. Too close, and you missed the obvious. With the way he'd tried to charm her in the bar, he knew that close could hide a lot, and it had. It had hid the knives in her boots, and it had hid his gun. Personalities were always hidden in bars like that, but Al's presence gave Brie far more confidence than she would have had on her own. Granted, she would've been ten minutes into her flight home if Al hadn't shown up, and she would never have been outed as Alliance - that's what had started this mess. From above, he posed no additional threat. She didn't see weight where knives were easily hidden, and he was going out of his way to please to Al.

She didn't see a good reason to take Jevon out of the Alliance port, and she suspected Al felt the same. Let him do all the snooping he wanted to, they had reasoned - a guard would pick him up eventually. Once he found himself free of Alliance control, it would be more than difficult to pick up Brie or Al's trail - he was going to the beaches as soon as time allowed, and Brie needed to buy more chickens. This would be the last Jevon saw of the mechanic and pilot, and last time Brie would visit this bar in a long time.

The man squeezed his hand, trying his best to show off to Jevon. Jevon gave his hand a firm grip but knew he shouldn’t try to squeeze back. Up close he got a better feel for the man. H had a rough hand and Jevon could see bits of oil stuck under his finger nails. Mechanic, Jevon thought, he knew the type well. The man didn’t respond with a name, which probably meant he didn’t trust Jevon all that much. After the hand shake the mechanic moved aside letting Jevon board. As he boarded Jevon used the opportunity to get a better look at the girl. Her hair was long almost to the mid of her back and the way she sat in the pilot chair made it seemed like she knew very well what she was doing. He won’t deny he was somewhat fliting with her in the bar, but right now wasn’t the time to try and pick up someone. As he sat down and buckled himself in he still continued to watch her. He looked down at her boots and noticed the knife sticking out of it. He hadn’t noticed that before, course where there was one knife there were probably other. The mechanic had board now and Brie revved the engines, soon enough they were off and flying down the ally and out onto the main streets of Beaumonde.

Now Jevon knew Beaumonde pretty well and if they continued on this path they would eventually hit the Water District. Soon enough they were there, the water district was no more than large open reservoirs used by the different factories for cool machinery or industrial run off. It was here that Jevon decided to play some of his cards. He quickly unbuckled from his seat and rose complain about motion sickness. But, as he got up he fell forward, bumping into Brie and knocking her bag to the floor, which he ended up falling on top of it with a loud thud. His bump caused the skimmer to fly to the left pulling very close to the edge of the street and over the reservoirs. The mechanic quickly rose to help him and as he did Jevon legs shot out tripping the man and sending him sprawling over the side of the skimmer. Jevon could just hear him scream followed by a large splash. He could just barely hear a curse in Chinese from the guy as they sped forward.

Jevon played the incident off as an accident “You might want to turn around, seems like friend took a spill over the sides.” He yelled at Brie over the roar of the engine try his best to look concerned to her as she worked to get the skimmer back under control.

Piloting, on occasion, could be very loud. The skimmer sat Brie nearly on top of the engines, which significantly limited her hearing and situational awareness, especially to what was going on behind her. Al would've been silent for the whole ride with Jevon to focus on, so she automatically assumed that Jevon was the one talking, if that wasn't her imagination. But then Brie rocked forward, pushed by something, probably Jevon, and her craft lurched. Her bag was no longer between her legs, and a quick look over her shoulder revealed Jevon was on top of it. There was no sign of Al. Without waiting to register whatever Jevon was trying to say, Brie let her skimmer continue to turn left, over the edge of the street, only pushing the nose upward to gain as much elevation as she could before they were over the water. Hovercrafts, like her skimmer, did their best over solid surfaces - flying over water put them at a much greater risk of crashing simply because maximum elevation was not achievable.

With a few swears of her own, Brie completed the loop and straightened her flight path, speeding along the road to where Al had fallen before pulling a hard break. No sane pilot would have completed that turn, but no sane passenger would have knocked the pilot. Hopefully, the turn would have kept Jevon off-balance, and if it hadn't the break certainly would have. Without pause for thought, Brie slammed the emergency off lever, grabbed her loosened knife, stood and spun, aiming to stop where Jevon had been before the turn. A slew of curses erupted from her mouth, alternatively accusing Jevon of being incompetent, and pushing Al off the edge and unbalancing her craft. While she shouted, the engine shuddered off, dropping them the last few feet to the ground - the skimmer had still been slightly nose-up when she slammed the break. If Jevon tried to take off with her craft, he would have to do some engine and electrical maintenance - hopefully that would give Al enough time to swim to the road, if Brie could put up enough of a fight.

Jevon was in a heap of trouble, he had just got himself situated after falling when Brie made a hard turn which toppled him back to the floor of the skimmer on his stomach. This pilot nuts, before he could move again the skimmer made a hard stop. Jevon rolled on to his back and pushed himself onto his elbows only to be met with the sharp end of a knife pointed at his face with slew of curses . He sat up and put his hands up “Whoa! hey now, everything’s shiny, no need to be pulling knives out on people, just a simple accident that’s all.” Jevon was nearly cross eyed as he stared at the knife. He began to pull himself to his feet watching as the knife followed with. Jevon grabbed Brie’s bag and held it up between them, he made a quick glance to the side at the water, the mechanic was still a little far out, but he was swim towards shore.

“Now here your bag, all friend like, just put down the knife.” Jevon had to act fast, any wrong move now would end up with someone getting hurt and he preferred it to not be him. He held the bag up; only as he did the contents of it fell out on to the floor. He made a move to pick it and used that distraction to knock the knife from Brie’s hand, he then pulled the Negotiator from its holster.” “Now I don’t like having to draw my weapon, especially on a pretty lady like yourself, but, if I have to I will.” He gestured with the hand-cannon to put her hands up.

Then with one quick motion he lifted his gun and fired. He wasn’t aiming at the girl though, he fired two rounds through the console of the skimmer leaving her dead in the water. “Sorry, just can’t have you two following me, here’s for the chickens.” Jevon pulled some cash out and threw it front of Brie. He then grabbed what he could from her bag and dove over the side of ship, he hit the ground running taking off for the nearest building.

Jevon offered Brie her bag, which fell apart as soon as she reached for it. Another string of curse words came to mind (nothing was going right today). Before they could even come out of her mouth, the knife nearly slipped out of her hand, and his probably-illegal gun pointed at her. With a sigh and a look of clear exasperation Brie raised her non-knife hand, slowing leaning forward to put the knife on the floor. "Second time today," she managed before he fired, twice. Her hand wrapped around the knife tightly as she ducked, trying to aim for Jevon. Of course, she missed, but ended on her feet soon enough to see Jevon make a grab at her belongings and jump to the ground. He'd gotten something, but she didn't have time to worry about which part of her ship he'd ruined.

Brie launched herself forward, managing to grab her cover and hopefully some form of identification (it might have been her uniform shirt, she didn't remember packing any other blue cloth), before hitting the ground. "STOP THAT MAN," Brie yelled, running after him as fast as he could. People scattered in front of her, but Jevon had a good lead. Thankfully, Alliance pilot school still insisted on fitness testing, so at least Brie could give him a good challenge. The distance closed, far enough that Brie made a jump for Jevon. His coat had slowed him down, but it also stopped her from getting too close before the jump. Miraculously, she felt her free hand grab his shoulder, remembering to hold tight as the rest of her body caught up with the jump.

Ideally, she'd get him in a choke hold. Most likely, they'd end up on the ground, and hopefully, someone would intervene, though Al was probably just climbing out of the pool by then. Worst case, the fall would knock her out, but Brie kept her neck stiff, trying to avoid that. If he made off with her access cards, that would be the end of her Alliance piloting dreams.

Jevon made for a crowd of people, pushing and shoving them out of the way as he ran. Just behind him he heard Brie shout, trying to get someone to stop him. Most of the people just looked up, confused as to what was going on. He could hear her behind him pushing her way through the crowd. Damn this girl is persistent. Jevon pushed his past the crowd and was hoping to make to the safety of an alley way when he felt a hand grip onto his shoulder, then the rest of what it was connected to flew full force onto his back. Then there were arms around his neck and then squeezing around his windpipe.

They were falling now, Jevon tried his best to turn to his side hoping the impact would dislodge the women from around his neck, he tried to turn his head trying to get in a breath of air. Then the ground caught up with them and any air he still had in his lungs was pushed out from the impact. Brie grip tightened, Jevon jabbed back with his elbow and her grip loosened, Jevon breathed in a breath of air. “You know I don’t fancy much fighting women” He grunted out. He kept jabbing with his elbow. He was able to somewhat pull her arms down so they were no linger around his throat but her grip was strong. Suddenly someone cleared their throat very loudly. Through blurring eyes Jevon looked up to see the glare of an Alliance officer staring back at him. “Lieutenant Roberts, I would advise you let go of the man before you chock him to death!”

The man giving the orders was lieutenant Commander William Taggurt, one of the commanding officer on board the Nemesis. Two other Alliance troopers come and pulled them apart. Jevon breathed in lung fulls of air as he looked at the man. Taggurt was stood tall, his grey officer’s uniform was pressed and clean his face will shaved with a small mustache, and hair that was squared off, a prime example of what an Alliance officer was should be. “What is all this!” He turned to Brie " lieutenant Roberts, what’s the meaning of this, you know the rules we don’t just run off chasing after every thief and murder we see, that’s the jobs of the local authorities!”

Even with her cover and shirt in hand, Brie felt her forearm press against Jevon's throat, her other arm catching her hand and shirt just enough to form a somewhat useful hold. They began falling, and Brie took a deep breath, trying to prepare for the ground's impact. Still, she felt her lungs release a good amount of air as they thudded - more air involuntarily escaped as his elbow caught her stomach. Brie felt her grip loosen as she fought to breathe in, but tightened as soon as fresh oxygen was inhaled. He grunted out some words and kept jabbing with his elbow. Grimacing as he hit her ribs over and over, she managed to get a response out. "Is it because we always win?" Her arms were no longer tightly around his neck, but they were still snuggly on his chest. He was strong, even if he wasn't that fast. Another blow hit the same part of her ribs, and Brie was nearly ready to give up - she had a feeling that he had bruised the muscle, and potentially the bones itself.

Suddenly, a cough cleared the air and the background noise stopped. Unwillingly, Brie looked up into the face of one of Nemesis' commanding officers. Hands grabbed her from behind and pulled her off Jevon before roughly lifting her onto her feet. She suspected Jevon was getting a similar treatment - at least he wouldn't leave his her access cards. "I don't chase every thief or murderer, Commander Taggurt," she managed, aware that response wouldn't be good enough. As her breath returned, Brie corrected her posture, even as she looked back at Jevon. "He held Staff Sergeant Reid and me at gun point, shot out the controls in my personal craft and took my port access cards," she stated as calmly as she could, her breath still returning.

Slowly, she looked back at her C.O., hoping Jevon wouldn't shout something crazy - but who knew. This day had been pretty unpredictable before that point, and absolutely everything was up in the air now that Taggurt had shown up. "Permission to retrieve my belongings, sir?" Brie asked, nearly standing at attention.

There were a thousand curse words going off in Jevon’s head around this time, he was in a heap of trouble before, now he was damn near buried under it and six feet under. The Alliance officer was a commander which meant if he felt like it he could have Jevon thrown in a dark cell never to be seen again. On top of the fact that he had clearly been caught assaulting an Alliance officer, he also had her access cards and a firearm that may or may not be technically legal. Heck, the dang purple-belly could probably have him shot were he stood if he felt like it.

Taggurt turned and regard Jevon for the first time, Jevon could see how the commander’s gaze lingered on his browncoat. Another strike to add to the list, “arrest him”, the Alliance troopers moved into to put him in cuffs. “Whoa, hey now, I just wanted a ride back to my transport and the next thing I know your Lieutenant here has got a knife point at me. So I felt the need to defend myself.” Jevon struggled as they tried force his hands behind his back. He glared at Brie “I told you the truth I never meant to hurt ya.”

Taggurt just turned back Bria “Lieutenant Roberts you are welcome to retrieve you belongings then you will return to the Nemesis, understood.” In a harsh tone he added “How can you let this happen, letting this…Browncoat, take control of you. I am disappointed Roberts, and I will make sure Captain Shafir receives a full report when we return and that you will be cleaning the latrines for the month.” Taggurt face was inches from Brie as he talked, then he stepped back and snapped his heels together as he turned around to leave.

Taggurt evaluated Jevon, but Brie couldn't let any sympathy she felt for the browncoat show. She'd sold him out, a little unfairly, but he had stopped her from reaching her ship in time to ensure it got the proper maintenance on schedule. After this meeting, she probably wouldn't be allowed any leave, forced to spend the next few weeks performing menial tasks. You pulled the gun first, Brie wanted to say, meeting his eyes only as he finished his sentence. He had never made her hurt her, at least not seriously. Brie knew that much, and she hoped he understood that she was just trying to cover and protect herself. The original plan would have worked out at least a little better in Jevon's favor - he would have had a chance to snoop around to his heart's content. Jevon almost certainly would have been escorted out of Alliance areas, but he wouldn't have been arrested.

Taggurt walked back to Brie, and any slippage in her form disappeared as Brie stared straight ahead. Her gaze happened to fall in Jevon's general direction, but she thanked whatever gods were watching that he wasn't directly ahead. The commander's voice was anything but quiet, and Brie managed not to flinch. "Yes, sir." Brie responded, loud enough to be satisfactory, projecting an acceptance that she certainly did not feel. A MONTH? That was unreasonable of Taggurt. Yes, Brie, had recently received a promotion from lieutenant junior grade to full lieutenant, and this incident was in direct conflict of the lecture she'd received from Shafir about "proper conduct", but a month? Polluck might be able to reduce her punishment time if he saw the incident report, but that was a large "if." Taggurt didn't favor pilots under the age of 35 - or anyone really, for that matter.

Once Brie heard the snap of Taggurt's heels, she counted three seconds before taking her first step towards Jevon. With a few steps, she closed the distance between them, carefully avoiding Jevon's eyes. "This is not what we wanted to have happen," Brie whispered as she explored his coat pockets for all her belongings. One of his guards had beaten her to the outside pockets within his reach, and Brie carefully sorted through that handful. All but one thing in the guard's hand was Jevon's. "I'm sorry," she lowered her voice further as she slipped on her mother's ring. Brie placed the rest of her belongings in her spare shirt, using it as a bag until she returned to her now-ruined ship. Brie knew every movement now screamed of Alliance and Jevon probably did not believe her words. But she had to hurry back to Nem: toilets needed scrubbing.