[Log] "...like herding cats."

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Crew Commons, Grace O'Malley [Persephone]
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Lucinda is standing near the coffee urn, which seems to be the center of hub of life for people aboard the Grace at this hour. "Just the times, my dear, just the times." She responds just as quickly. Then Lucinda does something she's usually not given to, she reaches for the sugar bowl.


Saienne steps into the Commons from the forward passage, her bare feet making little noise on the calico rugs underfoot. She has a sheaf of disordered papers in one hand and her new Christmas PDA held loosely in the other. Its screen casts an eerie blue light that shines onto the worn material of her once-white shirt. Her expression can perhaps be best described as vexed as she pauses to scrutinise one of the sheets of paper. "This ain't right," she mutters, drawing to a halt as she perceives that the Commons is not empty. "Mornin' y'all," Saienne starts. Then a pause. "Or afternoon. Somewhere on the cusp of that, ain't we?" A hungry look is directed towards the galley. "Wonder if Josephine's fixed anythin' yet..."


Morgaine doesn't know the habits of Lu to know anything is unusual other than that she is not getting an answer. She moves over and gets herself some more tea.


From the opposite direction of Saienne - the aft corridor - comes the airy sound of a door opening, and the sound of evenly spaced footsteps precedes Sirah's entrance into the room.A gown of deep, sea-blue silk shines dully in the artificial light, and tiny silver clasps are artfully arranged in the woman's blonde hair. A pair of green eyes turn to every person present, and a light nod is given."Good morning all." The companion's greeting is simple, her melodious voice warm. A brow then arches slightly at Saienne.


Lucinda dumps a heavy spoonful of sugar in her coffee before stirring it to disolve. "The state of things that bad, Sai?" She questions, her voice a bit dark sounding with the words. Then, "There's still a pot of oatmeal on the stove, no one's hardly touched it. And I saw the salad in the refridgeration unit for lunch, seems Jo prepared it in advance thinking it would be hard to get us all gathered for a proper meal. Good morning, Sirah."


"Sirah!" Saienne says, a lop-sided smile coming easily to quell the vexation previously there. She steps further into the Commons and sets both the papers and the PDA down on the largw dining table. "Ain't it just a balm to see you, an' all. Good mornin'." She shoves her hands into her pockets and just stands there, halfway between the galley and the Companion. "We got coffee, if you fancy some? Or I was about to brew some tea." Saienne then shakes her head at Lucinda. "Oh, no, not in the slighest. It ain't that. It's just -" she peers backwards at the paper and heaves a little sigh. "Ara's handwritin' is even harder to decipher than my own, an' that's sayin' somethin'." She nods back up at the doctor. "I reckon we'd be lost an' starvin' without our Josephine," she says, albeit quietly. She looks up at Morgaine and smiles a lop-sided smile. "I reckon I'd best get it a little more in order before I start bandyin' it about - but I may well take you up on that offer in the future." She glances sideways then, to Sirah, and says: "Sirah, this here's Morgaine - travellin' with us for a little while."


"I would prefer some tea, if you would not mind making for an extra cup, thank you." The blue-clad woman tilts her head lightly at Saienne and goes to sit by the table, a gentle rustle of fine silks following in her wake.Her blonde head turns, then, and a green gaze lights on Morgaine."Then welcome onboard," she says softly. "I have been away on a leave, but I travel with the Grace as well. My name is Sirah." A smile is sent to the other woman."And Lucinda! If it is possible, I would very much like to request a few more of the usual pills before take-off?" Lucinda takes a sip of her coffee, her nose wrinkling at the over-sweet taste but she drinks it nonetheless. Swallowing the scorching liquid with a bit of a cough, her gaze turns towards Sirah. "Of course." Her voice sounds raw for the moment. "I'll run down and get them before we dust off. Still haven't gotten used to the flight thing, hmm?"


Morgaine smiles at Sai, "Well, I need to speak with Jo about that. I am going to see about taking over some of the galley duties. Perhaps not full time but cooking is one of my useful hobbies and it relaxes me." She smiles to Sirah, one glance saying much about the woman just as one glance shows that Morgaine would never have had a chance to follow that path. "It is good to meet you, Sirah". She returns her attention to Sai, "and it also insures that what I eat doesn't kill me."


"Surely ain't no bother," Saienne replies to the silk-swathed woman. She steps lightly into the galley to start making the tea, gathering cups and utensils automatically as she continues to talk. "I wouldn't fret too much, Sirah. We ain't shiftin' skyward for a couple of days at least so there ain't no immediate threat of motion sickness." She turns the tap to run a little water into the teapot, swishing it around the clean the insides. She looks up to Morgaine and regards her carefully. "I don't reckon that Josephine sees the cookin' as a duty so much as a pleasure," she comments. "An' she ain't killed no one yet." A pause. "Leastwise not as far as I know - an' certainly not with her cookin'." She smiles crookedly. "But the galley ain't a closed space. You're welcome to use it whenever you fancy." "And I suppose I never will get used to it. The journey home was nauseating."Sirah nods at Lucinda, and her nose wrinkles - beautifully, maybe; but it allows a glimpse of distaste to break the companion's schooled facade. "I shall look forward to the menu, then," she adds in a smooth, but kind, voice to Morgaine."Oh, what a relief," she then leans back in the chair at Saienne's words. "I believe that Bishop brings us into orbit by following the most crooked course available. Every single time!" Lucinda takes her cup of coffee and goes to sit at the table, presumably near where Sirah is. "At least he's taken to wearing pants around the new folks." The doctor murmurs in reference to Bishop with a smirk into the depths of her mug as she takes another drink. Morgaine grins at Saienne, "The problem is if there are foods that I don't know know about in what is served and I accidentally eat the wrong thing. As our fair companion has problems with the motion of flight, I have problems with certain types of foods. I don't think she would intend to kill me."


"Oh, give over, he don't. It ain't his fault some of these atmospheres we spend our time dippin' into are bumpier than others." She nods to Lucinda, regarding Bishop's trousers: "This is so - an' ain't it a gorram blessin'?" Saienne grins over her shoulder at Sirah. "Although, truth be told, I been thrown out of bed by a landin' more than once. Trouble is, I ain't ever able to tell if it's Bishop or Aradia touchin' dirt so hard..." Her face darkens even as she catches up with what she's said. The grin falters, and she turns her attention back to the teapot, which is now as clean as it's going to get. "Expect I won't have to guess no more," she mutters, picking up the tin of loose leaf tea and taking off the lid. "Orange Pekoe sit straight with you, Sirah?" She asks, even as the faint citrus scent of the stuff drifts over from the galley. Morgaine's statement causes her to pause and look up again. "Is that so?" She says, frowning a little. "Well hell, that ain't no kind of fun. You speak to Josephine - an' about stores as well as cookin' - an' we'll see to it there's enough stashed in the cupboards as won't kill you."


"At least, he wears his trousers, yes," Sirah turns a smile at the doctor as she is seated. "He wore a much simpler garb when I first saw him: A towel, and no more, I deem. And Orange Pekoe is very fine, thank you."The companion cranes her neck to regard Saienne's tea-pot, a faint smile quirking her ruby lips at the sight. "Lemon is one of my favourites, truth be told, especially when onboard a spaceship." Sirahs brow arches faintly, and lines briefly furrow her smooth forehead."Has there been a shift of pilot duties," she adds with a gentle voice. "Since you would not have to worry no more?" "Hello, Sirah," says Tyr with a warm smile. "Haven't seen you in a spell. How's it going?" He grins, making his way to the galley to fix himself a snack. "Hi, everyone." Morgaine smiles, "just keep the nuts, cinnamon and shell fish from me. Those are my only food allergies." This of course implies there might be more that aren't food related. "I will try to do any landings I have the honor to perform as gently as possible. Of course it isn't always possible to be gentle. Sometimes you just need to get down to do it the safest way."


Saienne looks sharply at Sirah. "Ain't no one told you yet? Good gorram!" She frowns deeply, the crowsfeet at her eyes wrinkling deeply. "Ain't no one been able, ain't it so?" She pauses and looks at Lucinda a little helplessly. "It ain't so much the pilot who is a problem, but the Captain." She spoons a generous amount of tea leaves into the teapot, shaking it to stop them sticking to the damp sides. "She's gone. Hotfootin' it after Maxwell, an' we ain't got no idea where." She shakes her head. "That's why I won't be guessin'. Ain't no need to if it's only Bishop at the helm." Tyr's greeting derails her train of thought pretty effectively but she waves cheerfully at him. "Hello Tyr. Doin' fine?" She nods to Morgaine. "Nuts, cinnamon an' shell fish." She smiles faintly, crookedly. "I reckon we can manage that - but you'd best mention it to Josephine in any case." She explains a little further for Sirah then: "Morgaine's travellin' with us on account of the prospect of a pilotin' job."


Lucinda sighs deeply, her face falling into a bit of a sad mask at the mention of Aradia. Seems most of the crew has been mourning this latest development, and the doctor has not remained uneffected. "Scrawled a message on the blackboard in the galley. And poof. But we're determined to keep the boat flying, isn't that right, Sai?"


Morgaine laughs, "I do more than piloting. I do a little of everything handle medicines. I know where to keep my nose out for that one. I can put pressure on a wound to stop bleeding and administer my shots for allergy but that is about it."


Saienne smiles evenly at Morgaine. "Most folks have more than one skill to their set to be flyin' this kind gig, ain't it so?" She speaks quietly, and with a slight smile. "An' I reckon you already know that if you've lived this life any length of time." She pauses only to pour water just at the boil into the teapot, and then continues speaking as she stirs the leaves around and about, releasing the tea and the gentle scent of oranges. "But it don't matter how many skills individual folk have - it just ain't possible to fly a ship like the Grace single-handed." She looks up and across at Morgaine. "Ain't it just how our skills slot together an' complement each other that's most important?" Saienne places the teapot and a pair of delicate china cups on a bamboo tray. "Sirah, you take your tea with anythin'?" She asks, hand hovering over the sugar bowl. Lucinda's comment garners another brief nod. "Surely we are," she says in a strong voice. "Ain't no option but to keep flyin', as I see it." A pause. "Really there ain't no option."


"Good day, Tyr," the companion greets the newcomer in a warm voice. "It is good to see you again, all of you again."Sirah's brow then furrows once more, and a look is sent between Lucinda, Saienne and Morgaine. "She went... 'hotfooting'? After Maxwell? I do hope she is not in trouble." Worry and baffled incomprehension pass the woman's face, resulting in a very odd expression indeed. "And a spoonful of sugar, please," she adds at Saienne. Morgaine glances at the other, "If you will excuse me a minute but the head is calling."


"I've been hearin' about some contracts that pay a good bit," says Tyr, as he comes back to the table with a sandwich and some water for himself. "Like, thousands of credits. I don't know the employer, though. Nis--ka?"


"Hotfootin'," Saienne repeats. "An' we don't know where she is, nor whether there's danger, nor when she's comin' back." She looks at Lucinda again. "So as the good doctor says, we're just goin' to keep flyin' until we find out, I reckon." Saienne puts the little sugar bowl onto the tray and carries the whole lot over to the table, following on Tyr's footsteps. "That ain't a bad idea, Tyr - although I've been wonderin' if we don't need to take on somethin' with a little more security while we're findin' an even keel, an' all." She sets the tray down and puts one of the cups - a delicate turquoise cup and saucer - in front of Sirah. "Somethin' like we had with Jerena." A pause, as she considers. "Shame she ain't in business no more."


"Niska," the blonde woman ponders at Tyr. "I never heard the name before, I am afraid. And well, yes," says Sirah silently at Saienne's words, although the companion looks less than reassured. She nods a thanks and picks up the cup with delicate fingers, sipping from the hot liquid. "I do hope everything goes as it should go," she muses. "If not, would you please let me know, perhaps I could pull a few strings..." "Well, Sai, I'm just saying that big contract could give us a little coushin to work with until we get back to regular routes again," says Tyr. "Give us a reserve fund for repairs and that sorta thing."


"An' you ain't speakin' out of turn, neither, Tyr. I can see the sense of what you're suggestin' - although we surely ain't quite broke yet." She reaches up one hand to scrub at the stubble on the back of her head. "I surely do need to speak with Hatch..." she murmurs, frowning again. Sirah's offer causes her to smile again, lop-sided but bright. "Well, thank you, an' all. That's real kind."


"Think not of it, Saienne. I have come to like the Grace's crew a lot, and if I can do anything to help Aradia and Maxwell, I will." Sirah waves a graceful and dismissive hand in the air. It then descends to curl around the cup, bringing the turquoise porcelain to her lips for another careful sip."And as Tyr says, it is not cheap to keep a ship like this running."


A long pause. "And. Well." Tyr shakes his head. "This'll sound silly, but I got -- like, forty credits saved up, if Grace needs it to keep runnin." A pause. "Well, then that's what I'll give up for 'er."


Lucinda slips out of her chair, having fallen silent in all this discussion. She lost a friend, in all this, and that's what has hit her the hardest it seems. Dragging her cup off the table, she quietly excuses herself from the conversation.


"It surely ain't," Saienne says, agreeing with Sirah. She pours herself a cup of the orangy tea, leaving it unadulterated. Her own cup is a speckled pea green and she sips from it tentatively. "Tyr, that's awful noble an' all. Mayhap it would ease your mind to know what the bank balance is...?" She asks, reaching out a free hand for the PDA and pile of papers on the corner of the table. "It's here somewhere, I know it..." Lucinda's departure causes Sai to stop looking for the figures and look up at the doctor. "You mind yourself, Lucinda..." Saienne says, gently.


Sirah's green eyes glitter attentively at Lucinda, but the woman does not comment the doctor's demeanor -- even if her gaze lingers at the other before turning to Tyr."That is a very unselfish offer," she smiles. Her attention drops to the table, though, at the mention of of money and balances. A glance is then cast at Saienne, and she lets a silence descend before speaking again."You are the acting captain, then, or is it Hatch? If your current situation demands a re-negotiation of my precense here, please, do not hesitate to approach me." Tyr looks nervous that Saienne can't find the paper at once. Yeah, it's a new sort of era here on the Grace. But he just smiles.


Morgaine returns from dealing with some personal business, those old people generally need longer than the kids you see running around ships these days.


Saienne uncovers the piece of paper on which a few figures have been crudely scratched. "I was just doin' some sums." She taps at the PDA. "But we got it all electronically an' all, an' it looks much prettier than my spider-scrawl." Saienne peers at the numbers for a moment, sipping her tea. "We got over 100,000 dollars an' about 5,000 credits." She says, looking up over the rim of her teacup at Tyr. "We ain't goin' to go hungry just yet." Sirah's questions cause her to fall silent again. She rubs the edge of her saucer absently. "Me, I reckon," she say, somewhat reluctantly. "But I ain't yet spoken in earnest with Hatch, so I reckon I need to do that before anythin' else." She sips the tea again. "At present, I'm lookin' to business an' lettin' Hatch look to the rest." She shakes her head at Sirah. "A re-negotiation rather assumes knowledge of the original arrangement." She looks sideways at the sheaf of paper. "That ain't but one sixtieth of it all." She grins crookedly. "I expect the contract's in there somewhere Sirah, but I don't reckon porin' over it is at the top of my list of priorities." Her tone implies that she is making a joke at her own expense, rather than at the Companion's.


"This means I can stay onboard the Grace O' Malley for a while longer, I assume. This is well, then," Sirah says gently, and some - unnoticed, perhaps - previous tension seems to drain from her shoulders. "Also, I have found a few new clients who rely on the Grace's schedule," she hesitates...A glimmering gaze is flicked around at the people present."... As much as she has one, of course," Sirah continues in a softly amused voice. Tyr tries to be positive about that last from Sirah. "Well, hey, Sirah. That's good. I mean, it's good for you to have Clients. Really beginnin' to make your way in the Companion-ing world, right?" It's cheer, if perhaps a bit naive cheer.


"Schedule is one thing we surely ain't got!" Saienne says, with a laugh that nearly sends tea splashing from her cup. She grins crookedly and wipes the odd drip from the far side of the saucer. "Regular-like, leastwise. But as far as I'm concerned, you can stay as long as you like, Sirah. It's just I ain't in a position to pay beyond what was agreed before." She puts the cup down. "Tyr's right, mind. We need to dig ourselves up a good job." She pauses, and looks at the young man. "Reckon we should sniff around some of these you an' Morgaine have been hearin' about? I ain't had my ear to the ground for a couple of days so I ain't heard of them." She turns to look at Tyr. "Where'd you hear about it? Cortex ad?"


Sirah's gaze turns to Tyr, pride sparkling in her eyes as she regards the young man. Pride, and a brief - very brief, indeed - flash of temper; even if it does not seem to be aimed at the other. But her voice is gentle and relenting as she says: "Making my way into the world of Companions? I would rather say up through," her blonde head tilts slightly. But there is nothing humble about her gesture."The current fee is standard by the guild, and not to be changed, Saienne." Sirah's voice is warm - then it turns thoughtful. "I have a friend... Aeddan Logan. Maybe I could ask him if he needs a transport for some of his wares?"


Morgaine smiles at Sirah, "I am sure that some of your pay can come from the pocket of Bishop and his share of funds but if you are with the ship, we can provide you protection, friendship and a save place to be and if you get a good contract, you can share the wealth by having us be the ship commissioned to deliver you there."


"Yeah. Well. I've been lookin' around the docks for work for us. I'm tryin' to make myself be a little more useful," says the cargohand. "Doin' some other things than scrapin' chicken dung."


Morgaine looks at Tyr, "so what information do you have on contracts for us." She asks, "I need to know how long I have to master the technical manuals on this specific model with its variants to the standard systems I saw 11 years ago."


Saienne inclines her own head in a polite nod to the Companion. "An' ain't that just as business should be?" She asks, with a smile. "Well, stay to the end of the contract an' we'll see what happens after that." She looks around the Commons. "This ain't the place to be discussin' such contracts anyhow. We should be kickin' back in the Commons, not workin'." She listens a little longer as Sirah mentions her friend and possible cargo. "Well, that would be fine an' dandy, if you might mention it." She breaks off as the older woman speaks. "Morgaine," she says, quietly. "You ain't the pilot yet. If we take one of these contracts - which surely ain't certain until I've had a poke around about the terms an' the buzz - then it'll be Bishop doin' the flyin' for the time bein'." She smiles, not unkindly, and then turns back to Tyr. "But she ain't wrong. Were they Cortex ads? Or word down on Eavesdown? Were other folks clusterin' round?" She nods as he speaks a little more. "Well, we ain't got no chickens at present." A crooked grin. "An' ain't I mighty thankful for that, an' all." She looks straight at Tyr. "But I always figured you as more useful than a cleaner, anyhow." She settles her hands in her lap. "Look past the pay an' see the situation," she says. "Any downsides to this run? How much'll it cost to get us out to Ezra? Will we get enough of a profit to make such a long run worth our while or will we have to blow it all on engine parts, which surely ain't cheap out on the Rim..?"


"The Guild has determined that any vessel who carries a companion must pay a fee for this honour." Sirah tilts her head at Morgaine, explaining. "My presence will help you enter ports more easily, and I can even provide you with contacts; such as Lord Logan. I am not at liberty to pay for my passage apart from this, Morgaine," she adds with a smile.And then, the lady falls silent and listens to Saienne's musings."I am no expert in this," she then says, hand curled around the cup of tea. "But perhaps Aradia took a shipment to Ezra? The costs would likely be listed somewhere. Maybe Bishop can remember it."


"Well, there were a few listed," explains Tyr. "See. One was by that Niska fella, and was from Persephone to his -- his place, I guess. And it paid up to 4,000 credits. But there were others." He tries to remember, taking his PDA. "One from Ezra to Persephone. Another from Lilac to Ezra."


Morgaine considers, "I didn't hear about any one worth 4000 but I heard of one from here to Ezra for 2500." she smiles, "I expected Bishop would be the pilot but that doesn't mean I shouldn't be making sure I know what is allowed me of the manuals so I can pitch in on repairs as well be ready if there is a need for a pilot. I do better when I have something to do and I LIKE manuals."


"My apologies," says Saienne, turning to Sirah. "I wasn't clear enough, I reckon. The questions are rhetorical. I know the answers - I was just wonderin' if Tyr had thought on them an' all." She listens to Tyr now, nodding. "Well, that's the pay nicely squared. 4,000 credits ain't nothin' to sniff at." She pauses and turns her teacup round in her saucer and the ceramic makes a slight grating noise. "But, why, do you reckon, this Niska fellow is payin' so well?" She listens still. "That Ezra-Persephone run sounds interestin', mind. Del'dova, ain't it? Mayhap we should march on down there an' ask some questions at some point." She muses. "Water reaches a profit on Ezra, if I recall correctly." She looks back up to the young man. "Tyr, see what details you can dig up. 2,500 credits is a lot of money to ship a single tonne, even if it is halfway across the 'Verse an' most of the profit'll be spent on parts. If it smells illegal, we ain't touchin' it, mind." She nods to Morgaine. "Well an' good, then. The manuals should be on the Cortex, but I'll see if I can't mention somethin' to Bishop an' all, if he ain't too busy." She leans forward to put her teacup back on the tray, and to gather her papers and PDA.


Sirah empties the turquoise cup with a final sip, and rises with a rustle of fine cloth. "I shall leave you to your business," she says with a smile, "and go to do mine. It is time to screen for clients. A good day, all."And with that the lady rises, places the cup back on the desk, and leaves the room.


Saienne watches as Sirah and Tyr take their leave. She looks once at the older woman and blinks. "Like herdin' gorram cats, ain't it?" She says, candidly, picking up her PDA and slipping it into her trouser pocket, and then balances the sheaf of papers atop the cups on the tray. She walks over to the galley and leaves the tray on the side. "If you see Josephine before I do, you tell her I'm comin' back for that washin' up an' she ain't to touch it." She straightens, with the papers in her hand, and pauses to think. "An', Morgaine, please don't think I ain't appreciative of your skills." Another pause. "It's just... this ain't an easy time for no one here. Losin' a Captain... ain't it a bit like losin' a parent?" She shakes her head. "Well, they're all mine to watch over now, ain't they?" She nods once, and then walks towards the hatch to the hold. "So that's what I'm doin' - best way I know how." She ducks down out of sight, and all that can be head are her feet on the ladder.