I hitched a ride to Persephone, as the Eavesdown Docks are just about the busiest place in the 'verse when it comes to... well, everything, really.
I was trolling the more rundown section of the trade port -- seems that I don't look fancy enough or talk posh enough to sign on as crew for the larger, spanking clean and soul-less boats on the fancy side of town -- when I ran into a fella by the name of Needlemeyer Pointdexter Chubarkley. Literally ran into him, and that could've been a whole anecdote in and of itself, had he not fairly quickly come to mention that he needed supervision of the hot lead and menacing stares persuasion for a few drop-offs he was about to undertake around the rim planets.
He weren't a very pleasant man, I'll tell you as much, and he looked at me funny and asked if I was any good, and I looked at him funny right back and told him damn straight, I am.
So he signed me on, and his coin weren't unpleasant at all, lemme tell you. Right generous, if you asked me. Most of his crew weren't bad, either, the pilot was nice but a bit quiet, and she spent most of the time up in the cockpit, where I weren't allowed.
And we set off. We went to Hale's first, which was a blessing, 'cause I've missed it something fierce. Didn't get much of a chance to walk around and talk to folks, though, as I was set to guarding the current cargo while captain Chubarkley made deals with the buyer over in Fook's.
I don't think we was dirtside more than a couple of hours 'fore we set off again. This time our destination was the second moon on Athens. Not a very nice place to be. We landed in the night and loaded some large crates. 45 minutes, in and out, tops.
Once we was airborne again the captain and the first mate went to inspect the crates, though I was told to get my ass up into the messhall. I walked down to the hold later to have a look, after everyone had fallen asleep.
Was some mighty large crates, wood, with air holes in 'em. I got a bit concerned, but after knocking on them for a goodish long while and just getting grunting and growling in response, I felt a bit better. Prolly just some critters bound for someone's soup. I should know better than to ask questions about that kinda thing, anyways.
Someone came and knocked on my bunk door that night, rattling the handle and all that. I think it might've been the cook, he been looking at me all funny-like, but the door was a good one, and the lock even better, so I s'pose he had to take matters into his own hands.
Turned out the crates were going to Prosperity, and again, I was left to entertain myself together with Brunhilde, guarding the ship while the captain went to find the buyer and the rest of the crew stretched their legs.
I sat on the crates for a spell, trying again to figure out what was in 'em. They smelled funny, like sour milk. I never seen a critter smelled that way.
After a while some real shady-looking folks came and took the crates away, and I finally got some leave for the evening. I wandered around town for a bit, and ran into Duncan Cooperstone and the local doctor, and talked with them for a bit.
Duncan offered me to stay and hide on his boat if I needed, if the 'lliance wouldn't stay off my case, and I thanked him accordingly. If I have any more trouble, I might take him up on the offer, though for now, I seem to be in the clear. He also said he might have work coming up, which will be a kindness, 'cause my agreement with captain Chubarkley ended as of today, and I'm stranded in Prosperity at the moment.
With money in my pocket, what better way is there to spend the first of it on something to quench the thirst? I spent the evening at Bootlegger's, just watching the crowd from a corner together with a glass of whiskey. Don't feel too sociable right now. Kinda hard to know who to trust.
I still got that datachip we downloaded from the broke-down ship. I dunno what to do with it, it feels wrong to just throw it away. I s'pose I'll just hang onto it for now.
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