trans_9 | Taverns are something every good universe should have

Having seen more of the 'Verse than most people would dream possible in his rather eventful life, Mal had also been a patron of just about every type of drinking establishment there was. From upscale Core World bars to shacks out on the very Rim held together with mud and prayers, it was very likely Mal had at least stepped into it for a drink, and possibly a nice fight. Bars and Taverns were where you could learn a great deal about a person, just by watching how much they chose to abandon their own restrictions and self control in the presence of others. They were also where there was information, business deals, and new contacts to be found, all present in one neat central location, one that many communities revolved around. Whenever he stopped in a new port of call, Mal always made sure to pay the bar a visit sooner rather than later.

Of course, with all his experience with watering holes, he had to admit that the Drunken Dragon was something very new. On the surface it could almost be mistaken for a Rim world bar, with its rough and almost primitive design motif, almost comical dragon decoration, and lack of all the da bian luxuries the Alliance insisted marked them as civilized. Mal had been in enough of those dives, however, to realize that the Dragon was far more well maintained than most of them could afford to be, and that the design itself was not the result of a hodgepodge of whatever materials they could scrounge. It looked more like something out of an ancient Earth That Was picture book. Setting foot inside, Mal took the time to survey the layout of the place, memorizing the locations of all the tables, staff, and exits just in case he needed to leave in a hurry.

Not that he expected to have to do so, given Kaylee and Wash's assurances about the respect the patrons paid the owner of the tavern, but old habits died hard, and if he let them die then he expected he would soon follow. Still, it seemed like he'd arrived a bit early, and with time to spare before the person he was meeting arrived he made his way across the tavern to a place where he could sit with his back to the wall and watch the door. Of course, once he sat he needed a moment to get used to the fit of his suit, as he had for the past few days. He was rather glad the ship had seen fit to save the coat that was a symbol of his continued defiance against the now dead Alliance, but he had to wonder if it would have really hurt to save his pants and shirt too.

[OOC:This thread is mostly for if characters who Mal had arraigned to meet for drinks at the tavern, but if you want to thread with him feel free to have a character run into him while he's waiting. Individual threads can be set at different times too.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Now that was more like it - they could use more people like Mal, who stopped to get the lay of the land and then asked where they were needed. Trudy pulled her omnicomm out of her pocket and set it on the table, tapping through the menus to bring up command staff rosters and other useful information.

"On a ship like this, Security is usually in demand more than anything. Kang used to run training classes for people who don't know their ass from their fist, and he doesn't have too many people willing to teach his students how to shoot. He's planetside now though, so you'd have to chat at him when he got back. Does Serenity carry a payload?"

Although she had no idea how she could give Wash up, having another ship with another set of guns would help even the odds, and they needed all the odd-evening they could get.

Wasting time was for people with the inclination for it, and the time and money to indulge themselves. Mal had none of those things, and he appreciated the fact that Trudy seemed not to either.

"Not sure how well I would do enforcing rules, and I'm a might testy as a teacher, but if you've got folks who need to know which end of a gun to hold, I can help them with that at least. Long as I can hurt their feelings a little."

He shook his head at the question about Serenity. "No. Alliance doesn't look to favorably on anyone but them having armed ships, and outfitting a transport with weapons would cost more than I've got anyway. What she does have, though, is plenty of space to haul any cargo you need, and she's fast enough, maneuverable enough, and tough enough to get that cargo where it's going. Never much needed armaments to get the job done."

"There's something we don't have - evac and personnel carriers," Trudy said. "The observation deck detaches and descends to the planet when she's sending people on a mission, but dropships for quick extraction or reinforcement delivery we don't have. Not ships that are capable in atmosphere and vacuum. In fact, with the way Galilee is shaping up, we may need extraction sooner rather than later. We lost comm contact with our team on the surface just before podpop."

The people down on that planet were more than capable of handling themselves against a small force, and even against a medium-size force. But if Galilee decided that the crew of the Trans 9 was more trouble than it was worth, Trudy didn't have a very good feeling about their chances. "One of my pilots is down there," she explained. "I'd feel better if I knew there was a better chance of him coming back in one piece if the explosions start."

Now Mal was really intrigued. He had heard murmurings that something had gone wrong on the planet below them, but in the onslaught of new information he had been forced to learn and adapt to over the past few days, Mal hadn't really had the time or inclination to look into those rumors.

"Serenity's just as good in atmosphere as she is in the Black. She's got VTOL engines, let her land pretty much anywhere you can find a flat enough surface, and she's tough enough you can put her down out in the wilderness without too much trouble. Main cargo hold is big enough to fit a whole herd of steer in too. You need your people out of in a hurry, I can get them out, so long as you're willing to give me back my pilot to do it, along with all the information you have on the situation."

"We're trying to keep this kind of hush," Trudy said, "for obvious reasons. A lot of people have friends on the surface, not just me, and this crew... when their own is threatened they stir up like a pack of vicious hornets. We don't need that on this mission."

Trudy put her drink aside for a minute while she got down to serious business. "We got a communique from the GIA about Galilee a few days ago. Apparently this planet has some serious medical tech - we're talking reattaching limbs and regrowing skin and that kind of shit. They also have a problem with some civil unrest, so they're hoping that our people will kick some ass in return for life-saving equipment. Couple days ago we hear that Galilee's society is based on clone labor, and the unrest we're supposed to put down is actually an insurrection led by a liberation group or something. Some of our crew members are clones who got picked up and branded by the local authorities. It's... messy. We're in a comm blackout right now, so we're sitting tight unless we hear something."

"I'm not much inclined to socializing, so no need to worry about me running my mouth where I shouldn't," Mal assured her. "Can't imagine someone getting all worked up over some missing crew." Although, judging by his tone he not only could imagine such a thing, but he was pretty sure Trudy could too. "Not that we can really help them much if we all wind up dead."

Now that sounded very interesting indeed. Sure, the Doctor was more than capable of reattaching limbs, but procedures like regrowing skin could only be accomplished in the more advanced Alliance Hospitals, which were of course reserved only for the most well behaved, and wealthiest, Alliance citizens. "I know a doctor who, if he woke up, would be mighty interested in that sort of advanced tech. Sounds like the sort of thing the Core Worlds had back home." His eyes grew sharp as Trudy described the real mess her crew had found themselves in, and he gave the impression of a man filing away every detail for consideration.

"So basically, you jump the gun and launch a rescue where you don't need one, you risk not getting the medical supplies, and kick starting a war where you're badly out numbered. Am I reading this right?"

"That's the shape of it, yes. We're technically on a diplomatic mission, so descending from the sky in a blaze of glory would ruin that pretty handily. We're sitting on our hands until we can see which way the cat's going to jump."

Trudy didn't like it. She had also put her name in the pool to go down as reinforcements, but Kennedy had pointed out with his usual brand of ruthless logic that having the commander of their first line of defense stranded on the surface in a comm blackout didn't make any kind of sense.

Sometimes Trudy could hate her command. "Anyway, I've got the fleet on standby but we'd rather avoid a bloodbath if we can. Civil wars are nasty business and I'd like to keep the hell out if that's what starts. We sent down a small team of reinforcements to back up the crew on the surface. Now we just wait for word."

This was one of the definite advantages to being self employed, the luxury to rush in guns blazing when someone had your people whatever the consequences. Sure on Serenity Mal had to worry about alienating clients and local authorities plenty, if he wanted to stay alive and free anyway, but fewer people and less needs meant it was a hell of a lot easier for him to just pull up and run if he had to make some enemies. Trudy and her fellow command staff didn't have that luxury.

"Well, if you need something small and nonthreatening seeming, Serenity can pass as a transport and is a lot faster than she looks. Long as I can get my mechanic and pilot, ain't nothin' in the Verse that can catch us."

Taverns are something every good universe should have

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