Last Voyage of Delilah, Episode 104: Home Fires Burning
Air Date: 16 Apr 2014
Present: Andy, Kim, Terri, Matt, and Maer
Jump to: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Special Features
Friday, 09 Feb 2525
Circus, Paquin
Red Sun (Zhu Que) system
Morning
On approach to Paquin, Valentine gathers the crew one last time to offer them a chance to walk away when they kiss dirt, and never return. No one takes him up on his offer. Matter decided, everyone readies for landfall.
Of course, it doesn't go smooth. The portside gimbal chooses that moment to stick, keeping the portside thruster in thrust instead of landing position. Someone will have to crawl through the maintenance access tube to the gimbal lock and disengage it. Otherwise, Delilah will spin in a death spiral all the way to the ground.
Not an experience we're anywhere eager to experience firsthand.
Vikki volunteers. She's smaller than Poco. He shakes her hand and squeezes her bicep. Ow. He judges she's strong enough to do the job. He hands her a carbon alloy rod to lever the persnickety part free.
Poco: Here. Take this inanimate carbon rod.
Vikki: What do I need to hit with this when I get there?
Poco: Nothing! Don't hit anything. There's a locked … uh, clamp … There's a locked locker down there.
Vikki: Okay.
Poco: It holds the thruster in place, you know, when we're flying.
Vikki: And it's jammed, right?
Poco: Yeah. It's jammed. So you need to pry it open. Don't actually hit anything. More like a gentle frantic pry is what we're looking for.
Vikki: Okay. I get it. We're wasting time.
Poco: But first, before you do that, so you're not incinerated, lemme shut down the engines.
Vikki: Yeahhhh … I'll call you when I'm done—wait, do we have comms?
Nope. They'll be knocked out of commission once the engines go offline.
Vikki: I'll knock three times on the ceiling.
Poco: I'll give you a ten-count.
Vikki: Here we go.
She stands by the tube hatch and waits for Poco to turn off the engines. The access tube is nasty—slimed over with years of grease, dirt, and other stuff it's just best not to dwell on. Vikki gets in position and waits for Poco to do his part: turning off the engines. If she tries the fix while the engines are running, it'll get more than a mite hellish.
Getting burned alive isn't something she wants to experience, either.
For once, the odds seem to be with us:
- Poco cuts the engines off perfectly
- Vikki finds out it's more than just a jam, but successfully jerry-rigs the part she needs for the fix
- Poco restarts the engines beautifully once Vikki crawls clear
- The engines engage
- Rachel takes control of the ship
- We don't die. Always a plus.
Of course, Rachel has to turn on the comms to give Traffic Control the good news. She gets a lot of screaming in return. The panicked OHMYGODWHATAREYOUDOING??‼ kind. At least it's not the STANDBYTOBEBOARDED kind. We're getting kind of tired of that.
Traffic Control gets a grip. We get a landing pad. We land easy as you please.
Aft of the bridge, Valentine is completely calm and Tian is moaning her relief at landing in one piece. He makes sure she's all right before helping Poco pull Vikki out of the maintenance tube. She emerges covered head to toe in nasty stuff that might be oil, might be toxic waste. The young woman wrinkles her nose as she tries to wring out her shirt. Poco watches and pulls a deep drag on his ever-present cigarette.
Poco: Well …You've looked … cleaner.
Valentine: Good work.
Vikki: Just rub me over the engine if you need anything lubed … (wrings) … God, this stuff's disgusting.
Poco: Try to drip over in that corner.
Vikki: Dammit. Scratch my nose. I've got an itch.
Cuz, you know, her hands are all over nasty crap. Poco obliges. Vikki sighs. That's better.
Vikki: Ohhhhh… That feels so good….
Through the bridge windows, Rachel sees the crash trucks out with their lights flashing—just in case. She also sees some money change hands with the ground crew, too. The ship settles. The hull cools. The ground crew works.
Business as usual. One more landing accomplished. Rachel pats her ship.
Good girl!
Rachel turns in her pilot's chair and whistles for Mortimer. The rat takes a moment to poke his nose out. He finally scampers over and perches on her shoulder. She pets him affectionately.
Rachel: There you are. It was scary, wasn't it, baby?
Mortimer sniffs her ear and tickles her with his whiskers. Rachel smiles and climbs down from the bridge. She lopes into the crew lounge with her easy stride and finds the rest of the crew already gathering there. Rachel beams and sighs happily.
Rachel: That was excitin'.
Tian: (still shaken) Any landing you can walk away from, I guess.
Poco: You still interested in greasing the palms to get this thing sold?
That last was addressed to Valentine. Valentine replies easily, apparently unruffled by the landing.
Valentine: If we think we can do it, although actually this is a good question.
Valentine does a quick mental count of his finances. How much cash does he have on hand for the bribes it would take? He doesn't have a lot to spare. That isn't something he can change right this moment, so he goes to the next thing.
Valentine: So where are you thinking? Here? Belix? Somewhere else?
Poco: I thought you wanted to get rid of her as fast as possible.
Valentine: I do but here's the thing. Despite the fabulous wealth that you see scattered throughout this ship, I don't have a lot of working funds to be able to even to grease palms.
Poco: If you want to look into it, and you know, if I get a little bit of a finder's fee, I could help you look for—
Valentine: You want a finder's fee of nothing? It's going to end up costing me. I'm not getting anything out of this.
Poco: Well, that woman that I was runnin' from was pissed and so I didn't get out'a there with a lotta walkin' around money, so …
Valentine: That's fair.
Poco: But I'm not asking for … you know, you gave me room and board. Appreciated. But if there was money to be had in the transaction, then ….
Valentine: How long? How long, is the question, because that makes all the difference here.
Poco takes a long drag on his cigarette, considering it. He's more familiar with ripping ships off instead of selling them but … .scrapping Delilah is kinda similar to his last job. What we need is the Certificate of Disposal. Poco could find someone to forge a CoD for us, but that's an expensive task requiring money we don't have. After all, forgeries don't come cheap and in the greater-good scheme of things, the faked CoD doesn't mean the ship would be disposed of properly. It's fairly certain that Paquin just isn't equipped for the job, and certainly not at a price we can afford. If anyone on Paquin did take Delilah, it would just to have her sit there for parts. Do we really want to take on the bad karma of hurting people by walking away and letting her rot in place? If we could get to Beylix, we'd have a fairly wide pool of competing junkers who could do the job. We'd have more leverage for bargaining and we could probably get Delilah off our hands. Poco thinks he can get a better idea of disposal options by asking carefully around with the criminal contacts he has on Paquin.
Poco: Give me a couple of days.
Valentine: You can have a couple of days, assuming that things don't go ...
Poco: That I don't get a bullet in my head?
Valentine: That's pretty much it, yes. Let me know how much and when, if you find anything, because I've palms I need to grease. If there's money to be had from the transaction, you'll get your fee out of it.
Poco: All right. Fair enough.
While Valentine and Poco discuss our options, Anatole takes Rachel aside. During the flight to Paquin, Rachel and Anatole had engaged in pillow talk. She told him what she'd seen of the Baron's Wall of Crazy and Anatole took an interest in everything she could tell him about it. Anatole calls up those pictures on a tablet and as they talk, he swipes through them.
Anatole: Have you seen some of these? Zoomed in on them?
Rachel: No, honey, I usually don't worry about things like that. They're mostly a curiosity.
Anatole: Some of the things he wrote were inappropriate slurs, but some seem to be genuine requests from business partners offering decent deals for his brewery. It was apparently a successful business before his madness took him.
Rachel: Well, the beer ain't half bad, that I ran off with. So I can see that. Are they offworld or …?
Anatole: Most of them are local but there are some offworld purchasers. Probably disappointed, as they are probably expecting deliveries.
Rachel: Huh. So …. Darlin', how do you think we can swing this to makin' money for Delilah?
Anatole: Given our hasty departure, I doubt we could convince the Captain to return.
Rachel: Ahh … well. We could run it by him and see if he'd be inclined. It not that I don't think I could bother him about leavin', it might be landin' again that I'll have to talk him into.
Anatole: It's just that your story moved me, about the plight of these people, and it does seem like with proper management they have some opportunity. Perhaps they might have people among them capable of doing so. It reminds me of some of the work I did back on the Trafalgar.
Rachel: So … negotiations and business dealin's.
Anatole: Well, accounting mostly.
Rachel: Oh! Son, I didn't know you were good with numbers.
Anatole: Well, if you do it often enough, it becomes natural.
Rachel: So I reckon you know exactly how much you ended up owin' those Chinese people.
Anatole: Well … Let's just say their form of accounting perhaps had more unexpected penalties than I anticipated.
Rachel: Mm-hm.
Anatole: There's a rigor and a formality to the Triad's contract system than I'm unused to.
At least Anatole had the grace to look chagrined. Rachel just nods sagely.
Rachel: (intoning) "They seemed very very insistent that I pay on time."
Anatole: They weren't insistent but they just kept changing the deals. My threats of not doing business with them did not carry the weight they did when I was managing the equipment on Trafalgar.
Rachel: To be honest, Anatoly, they basically figured they could part your body out and get you to pay back that way.
Anatole: Well … (preens, just a teense) … I do try to stay in shape.
Rachel: No, I'm thinkin' the internal, not so much the external.
Anatole: Internal? … (lighbulb!) … Good gracious.
No matter how you choose to slice it, the Triad will get their pound of flesh.
Rachel: We need to figure out how we can sell this to the Captain.
Anatole: I understand that for the journey back there's fuel and costs—(taps the tablet and the pictures again)—but it does look like there are a few deliveries that might be possible to arrange and that somebody would pay to have done.
Rachel: They'd pay to have them brought back and forth, which is … (sighs) … good, considering what they've already spent.
Anatole: Looking on the captures, it's hard to know exactly what the details are.
Rachel: I'm sure we can contact him. There's contact information.
Anatole: You mean the Baron?
Rachel: Yeah. In those pieces of paper you studied over.
Anatole: It's hard finding anything really useful. I might get a couple of wave addresses, but …I would probably have to take a look at the books to actually know.
Rachel: Well, considerin' he's proven he's got a soft heart for those people. Or at least, that girl—
Anatole: The Baron?
Rachel: The Captain. He might be willin' to go back and help 'em. It's worth mentionin'. We'll talk about it at breakfast.
While Anatole and Rachel have their heads together over this, Valentine takes Tian and Vikki aside for a little conversation of his own. Vikki takes care not to touch Valentine, as she's still all-over filthy. Valentine raises a single brow but refrains from comment.
Valentine: What I need to know is if I were to sell or scrap the ship, what or where would the two of you go and what would you do?
Tian: I suppose we would try to do what we're supposed to do on the planet you decide to drop us on and try to raise money from there. That was part of our charter to begin with, was to come out here and make nice with all the locals and you know, if it was a positive response, we would be able to get more funding from back home but if it wasn't, then we were going to be on our own.
Valentine: Okay. Thanks.
Tian: Why?
Valentine: I've got some decisions I have to make and those may be affected by what happens or hasn't happened while on planet. The more information I have, the better decision I'll make.
Tian: We're not your crew, so you make the decisions you have to make.
After all, for better or worse, Valentine is the captain of the ship. It's his call. Not that he'd prefer to make it. Being a ship's captain was never part of his plan.
Meanwhile, Rachel leaves the ship to chat up the ground crew to keep the goodwill going and after that, she looks up some of her old friends.. She's an old spacer, has flown for forever, and has cultivated a vast array of contacts and friends. She's got someone she knows in every port of the Verse. Sure enough, one of her friends is on Paquin and able to see her. They meet.
Rachel: Hey, Bridge!
Bridge: Heyyy, why so long off Paquin? It's been ages.
Rachel: I dunno, this time I actually tried to become a comet this time. Did you see me comin' through the sky? 'Lilah acted up somethin' fierce.
Bridge: We heard some alarms. Was that you?
Rachel: Yeah.
Bridge: I'm sure they just did that to alert all us young men to watch out.
Rachel: (sighs) I'd like to say that. 'Lilah really acted up, though. She has a thruster that completely stuck open. Started spinnin' me like a maple seed.
Bridge: Yeah, one'a my shuttles has got a grav dampener circuit out, too. Drivin' me crazy. Got three shuttles runnin' around 'tween here and Heinlein. Without one'a them runnin', it's double the work, double the maintenance … double the pay.
Rachel: What kinda shuttles're you runnin'? And where're you runnin'?
Bridge: Just running between the moons of Heinlein for the most part although every now and then we'll get a job out to one of the Red Sun planets.
Rachel: Oh, so just Heinlein and stuff. So a lotta li'l short hops.
Bridge: Most'a these're short hops, yeah. They can go within system, but I need a special contract for those because there's not the money in it.
Rachel: I was goin' to say we're always lookin' for something to do with 'Lilah .
Are we? We are? That's Rachel's story and she's stickin' to it. It makes for good small talk. The two beers she's brought with her make for good talk, too. Of course, Bridge is aware of what she's doing. He's danced this dance before. So they drink and talk, just two spacers shootin' the breeze.
Bridge: I wish I had work for you but as I say, it's mini short hops, nothing long enough to justify a ship like yours. You'd use more fuel takin' off than one'a my shuttles.
Rachel: Hmm, yeah. That's true.
Bridge: But you know … you could come work for me.
Rachel: I would, but just those short hops? It's kinda borin'. I'm sorry.
Bridge: Nah, it's okay.
Rachel: I mean why fly somethin' when I can just sit back an' push the buttons when I could fly somethin' that basically is a rock? Which is fun, but … When I get too old for this, I'll let you know. I'll come fly the borin' stuff.
Bridge: It doesn't have to be boring.
There's no insult or heat in his reply. They've had this conversation before. It's just part of their established dance. Everyone knows the steps.
Bridge: Besides, you never know when the Alliance is gonna show up and decide they're gonna start interdicting ships and then it'll be excitin'. We'll need more pilots like you. (smiles) So how long're you stayin'? I gotta shower an' shave and such.
Rachel: Are you invitin' me?
Bridge: Well, we could go out.
Rachel: I reckon I could go out and be fed. You feel like feedin' me?
Bridge: Of course.
Rachel: (laughs) Then let me go clean up. So I'll see ya 'bout six o'clock tonight?
Bridge: Okay. That'll give me time, too.
Rachel: Make ya stop smellin' like ship oil.
They part company and Rachel returns to Delilah, whistling with a smile. She runs into Valentine and the rest of the crew on the way in and she greets Tian cheerfully.
Rachel: Hey, doc.
Valentine: Hey. You have people you can talk to, right? If we—shit—excuse my language.
Rachel: (amused) It's all right. I've heard it all before
Anatole: How dare you, sir!
Rachel: Anatoly, it's okay.
Valentine: Jobs. For Delilah. You were the only one that grabbed them. Will you throw your feelers out there and see if there's anything to be had?
Rachel: Funny you should mention that. Anatoly had a really good idea.
Anatole: Well, just an observation really.
Rachel: Well, I think it's darn right brilliant. And maybe you two can talk about it this evenin'. Cuz I'm goin' out to dinner.
Anatole looks a little crestfallen at the news. Dinner without him? Rachel sees his face and explains.
Rachel: I've got a friend here that I ain't seen in a long time, sweetheart. And you were gonna be gettin' off and so …
Poco: Apparently not.
Poco's comment is heavy with wry insinuation Valentine just stands there and watches everything unfold. Vikki rolls her eyes.
Vikki: (to self) Grownups can be such children.
Tian: (stifles a snicker)
Anatole: Yes. Well. (to Valentine) I just think there might be some work. I know that we …. fled … somewhat rapidly but there may be some work back at this … Paderborn. Examining one of the captures that you took of the office, it looked like things were on hold but otherwise doing well.
Valentine: (evenly) Okay.
Anatole: So we get in there and smooth over some of the ill feelings and then you might have a cargo job.
Rachel: The beer, Val.
Valentine: I know what he's talking about. So you think we should go back and … you ease them into this?
Anatole: I do have some experience in the procurement and distribution supply channel. I might be able to provide some expertise. I'm assuming, of course, that whoever was in charge of that had probably met an untimely, ah, accident or something, given what had been going on there.
Valentine: That's likely. What I need to find out, or have somebody find out, is—and this is the kind of information I need to know regardless, because I don't want to fly back into the waiting arms of the Alliance or whoever it is that plays that role. Doubling back on your tracks is not necessarily a bad idea.
Anatole: I can make some inquires into some of these contact numbers.
Valentine: If you can do that, do it quietly. Draw as little attention as possible.
All righty, then. Anatole has a job to keep him occupied. He looks happier at the prospect. Rachel, on the other hand, looks a little less happy.
Rachel: (slowly) So, I hadn't asked cuz it seemed important to fly, but why were the Alliance after us?
Valentine: Name your reasons. One of them, probably the biggest one, is the cargo in the hold.
Rachel: So how come everybody seems to know about that cargo but us?
Valentine realizess that he hadn't shown the APB to anyone but Tian and Vikki. Tian didn't want to tell anyone else about it and Valentine honored that. He still does.
Valentine: Look, it could be any number of reasons. That cargo is potentially valuable enough-slash-dangerous enough-slash-secret enough that there could be any number of groups after us, and the Alliance would certainly be one of them. Let's just assume, for whatever reason, the Alliance is interested in finding us. Let's not make it easy for them. Because I don't trust their bureaucracy to settle things out in a proper and efficient manner. (off her look) Yes, Rachel?
Rachel: I'm just thinkin'. I was tryin' to calculate in my head what I used to charge your dad from when we used to blockade run. And if the Alliance is lookin' for ya, I reckon you're gonna be owin' me a little bit more than you'd planned on owin' me before.
Valentine: Let's start by saying I wasn't planning on owing you anything. It's not hard to go up much from that. We'll have to sit down and talk about that. So, I got a couple irons in the fire. Let me take a couple days and figure out how those are going to work out. Then we'll make a decision about whether we're going back to arrange the beer or something else. And I have a few things that depending on how things turn out, that I have to settle here one way or the other.
He sighs.
Valentine: And whether we fly back for beer or whatever we fly back for, we'll start thinking about salaries and getting paid.
Poco perks up at the word "paid". In theory, no one is supposed to know that he's aboard this ship. Triad, Alliance, no one. Not even the crew. And when he leaves the ship, he'd like to keep it that way, too. He'll leave in disguise if he has to. But it would be nice to get paid first. Like getting paid to set them up with a job, a job that pays.
Poco: So, how long have I got to sell the guns … or anything you wanna get rid of?
Valentine: Don't mention the guns.
Tian: Don't mention the guns.
Poco: All right.
Never mind that the guns we've got would fetch a price high enough to solve all our problems… Not that it makes no never mind to Rachel.
Rachel: Sellin' Delilah?
Poco: Later!
He beats a hasty retreat. He knows Rachel is attached to the ship and will get upset if we sell her. Valentine takes up the gauntlet and faces his pilot squarely.
Valentine: (evenly) You know, Rachel, that we're not keeping her.
Rachel: Then I better be askin' Bridge if he's got a ship that's gettin' me off'a this planet. Cuz there don't sound like there's gonna be one when I get back.
Valentine: I'll tell you this, Rachel. Do I think I'm going to be able to sell it? Not really. But for my own sake I have to at least look and figure out if it's possible. You didn't want it. I offered to sign it over to you and you didn't want it. I asked you if you'd take it if I signed it over to you and you—
Rachel: Laz would be spinnin' in his grave. The ship is yours, Val.
Valentine: Then if I sell it, it's mine to do with as I please.
He checks his watch. It's a little after twelve noon. He has people to see. For one, his boss. He doesn't want to do it just yet, because he doesn't have a solid plan. Is he quitting the casino? Or is he returning to it? Or does he have to take care of something first? He doesn't want to go to his boss and say that he needs two more weeks and then not be able to return for another six to eight months. He's already overshot his original leave of absence by a considerable margin. He'd thought that he would make a quick trip to Persephone, sell the ship, and return home again.
A quick turnaround.
We all know how well that worked out. Valentine's tardiness in returning isn't going to go without consequences. If he goes back to his boss, Valentine needs to go back with an explanation that his boss will like.
Before he can decide who to see or where to go next, he gets a call. He takes it at the nearest comm unit that's somewhere private and opens the channel.
Valentine: Hello?
Caller: Val. It's Dean.
It's Harrison Dean, the Chief of Operations of the Golden Dragon Casino and Hotel. Valentine's immediate boss.
Valentine: Hi.
Dean: Saw that ship of yours … docking. We saw it appear on the boards.
Valentine: Do you want to catch a drink and talk about it instead of doing it over the wave?
Dean: I would personally love to do that but apparently there's someone else on your dance card.
Valentine doesn't need Dean to say who it is. He already knows. It's Dean's boss, Jann Wei, the owner and chairman of the Golden Dragon Casino.
Valentine: (evenly) All right. When? (a beat) Now? There? Here?
Dean: He'll want to see you up in his office.
Valentine: All right. I'll be there shortly. Sooner, rather than later.
Dean: Probably a good idea.
Valentine: I'll be there.
Valentine cuts the channel and breathes. He knew this moment was coming. He'd originally asked for a two week leave. Thanks to things beyond his control, he's gone past his promised return date by a considerable margin. He's going to have to make good with his boss if he wants to keep his job. Or even keep the privilege of breathing.
He goes to the bridge stairs. Knocks on the hatch. Goes up when they come down. Rachel is in the pilot's seat, as always. He cuts to the chase.
Valentine: I'm going to see my boss. My boss's boss, really. If I don't come back, leave in three or four days—actually, you can leave anytime you want if I don't come back. I won't have any control over it. Just so you know.
Rachel: Where would I be leaving to?
Valentine: I don't know. It'll be your ship, then.
Rachel: Val! You better not be walkin' off before explainin' this.
She puts a boot on the stairs hatch so he can't descend.
Valentine: My boss … My boss's boss, I should say … He's a little delicate about things sometimes and he likes them the way he likes them.
Rachel: This is the man you Pit Boss for?
Valentine: The owner of the Casino. Yes, basically.
Rachel: Hm.
Valentine: I can handle it. It's just there's some non-zero chance that I'll end up with a bullet in the head. But hopefully it won't go that far.
For a man who's possibly showing up for his execution, Valentine takes it rather calmly. Rachel sighs.
Rachel: Take somebody with ya.
Valentine: That's not a good idea.
Rachel: You c'n take one'a the girls. They clean up pretty.
Valentine: No. It's all right. I don't want to get anybody else any deeper in any other situations than they already are on their own. I'll handle this.
Rachel: Tian is still mighty fine-lookin' for an older woman and Tinkerbell is even younger.
Valentine: It's not a matter of how good looking they are. I'm just not wanting to get anybody into any more trouble.
Rachel: Ain't a man on the planet that shoots another man with a woman on his arm.
Valentine: You don't know him, do you? (a beat) I'll be back. Most likely I'll be back without a job.
Rachel: All right.
Rachel takes her foot off the hatch. Valentine takes our aircar and goes straightaway to see his boss. He doesn't bother taking a gun. He knows he's going to get frisked before going in. Why cause trouble?
Valentine pulls up to the Golden Dragon Casino and walks in. He catches some tellingly polite nods and little waves from his staff. It has the feeling of … a send off. It's a relief, actually. Valentine relaxes. His fate is already decided. He doesn't have to spend any more energy or stress on the what-ifs. Mind, he's most likely going upstairs to die, but at least he doesn't have to worry about it.
At the top of the casino, he's met with half a dozen guards. Eyeing them as they pat him down, Valentine judges that there must be a transition in personnel underway. Before he left for Persephone, the guards had always been well-groomed and well-mannered. These men are slightly more … aggressive and scary.
Valentine politely nods and waits for permission to go in.
He's shown into the big Presidential suite. Lots of sweeping space, high-end furnishings, and high-tech equipment. Case in point: the free standing fire pit in the conversation pit is currently showing a holographic call. The back of the caller's head is turned to Valentine. His boss, Jann Wei, is sitting at ease behind an impressive desk and is faintly visible through the hologram. The sunshine pours in through a wall of glass behind the desk, making new arrivals squint from the glare. It's a psychological ploy to make Valentine feel unimportant but he rolls with it. He stands silent and calm and waits for his boss's attention. He listens in.
Jann Wei: … well, we're not going to do that, but buy me a hundred hectares on the outskirts.
Caller: Yes sir.
The call ends and the hologram shrinks out of sight. Jann Wei, an Asian man of middle years exuding an air of quiet elegance and menace, regards the view outside the window. Lost in thought or perhaps merely using another intimidation tactic. Without turning around, he says:
Jann Wei: Ah yes. Mr. Quick.
Valentine: Sir.
Jann Wei: Get a drink and come join me.
Valentine: Absolutely.
Valentine pours a drink from the best Jann Wei has. If he's going to be shot, better it be with a quality liquor on his tongue, right? Valentine joins his boss but keeps a respectful distance. Jann Wei speaks to the window.
Jann Wei: How long have you been working for me, Mr. Quick?
Valentine: Eight years.
Jann Wei: And in that time you've taken off … a weekend?
Valentine: At most, sir.
Jann Wei: Now you've been gone for … how many days is it? Fifteen? Twenty-two?
Valentine: The calendaring system on the ship is not quite up to the snuff of the passenger ship I've been on before but twenty-two days sounds about right.
Jann Wei: When someone well-placed in my establishment disappears for three weeks or more and finds himself in possession of a spaceship, I take notice.
Valentine: I would expect nothing less, sir.
Jann Wei: This ship has taken the notice of other people.
Valentine stands a little straighter.
Valentine: Yes, sir.
Jann Wei: Some of my distant associates made mention of it on Persephone.
Valentine: Yes, sir.
Jann Wei: They said there was a cargo of considerable value transported to the ship. What puzzles me is they would not say what the cargo was.
Valentine: The ship I'm on, sir, is at any one time about six seconds from blowing apart. This is a legacy from my father. The cargo was a cargo that he purchased before his death and the cargo is IRP. It's vaccines and equipment to drill artesian wells and other things on Rim Worlds. I'm certain that your associates feel it is valuable. Their actions in every respect indicated that they felt it was valuable but why they think it is valuable is beyond my understanding, sir.
Jann Wei: Very little transpires in the Verse without Triad knowledge.
Valentine: That's true, sir.
Jann Wei: However, occasionally things do and that draws their attention more than anything else.
Jann Wei taps the arm rest on his cushy executive chair and the windows darken, reducing the glare. Jann Wei looks at Valentine.
Jann Wei: The security around that transfer was noticed. Apparently there was an attempt to take it but it was foiled.
Valentine: Yes.
Jann Wei: Do you still have this cargo?
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