Nice Place For A Showdown
Posted on Mon Jan 2nd, 2023 @ 11:37am by Alden Loxley & Drake Loxley & Jonas Bailey & Kindra Graham & Spencer Wainwright & Jacy Wright & Zhang Quing & Whit & Kinmont Armstrong
Edited on on Mon Jan 2nd, 2023 @ 11:41am
Mission:
Home Sweet Wonderful Home
Location: Rolling Hills of Rural Three Hills
Timeline: November 16, 2517
Despite the uncomfortable thumping of his heart and the harsh chill of the wind, Alden had to admit the scenery was on point. Drake had shared enough of the backstory to ensure his elder brother had way more questions, but there was no time for that right now. Right now all that mattered was getting Kindra back alive and unharmed, and for that to happen, something was bound to give.
Rolling green hills with occasional low lying, hunched-down trees at the high points running down to wider ranges of deciduous forest rising up from the rivers below. Majestic, wind-friendly sweeping valleys formed by a long distant ice age created a friendly wilderness away from the shopping districts of the Georgia System's main trade centre. A little piece of heaven that was largely ignored by visitors for those exact reasons. Granite stone rose up in craggy outcrops that offered picturesque places to have a picnic, take a leak or conceal a sniper or two.
That last option was the first thing Alden had seen to, Jonas set-up long before anyone else headed to site.
As locations for his final mortal demise went, Kinmont could not have chosen a more beautiful spot. His wife would have loved it. Kinmont took it all in, imagining how he'd describe it to Siobhan in the afterlife, if there was one. Then the old spy surveyed the terrain tactically, comparing it in his mind with the topographic records he'd reviewed, and orienting his perspective. Alden's brother had chosen the coordinates for the handoff wisely, giving them a slight advantage.
Kinmont regarded the Firefly captain. He was a good man, and he had assembled a capable crew. Kindra could do worse. He'd said it before, but he couldn't help repeating again, "Buccleuch needs me alive. He'll play it straight and reasonable right up to the point when he has me in custody. Don't trust him."
"I won't," Alden stated, his hands clenched into fists at this side. He didn't know even a tenth of Kindra's history, but he knew more than enough to intensely dislike Buccleuch. Kidnapping Kindra being the number one reason to want to end the fella.
Quing sat at the base of a hunched down tree, her eyes closed in meditative contemplation of the scenario unfolding. She felt the breeze on her face, the slight chill tingling her cheeks. She could smell the scent of the tall grasses that grew around. She sat and she breathed. Her kit she had brought for this mission lay in front of her, ready to be gathered as the need presented itself: a long barrelled target pistol with a silencer screwed on to the end, several EMP detonators and a brace of fletchettes and small knives. She sat and she waited. The terrain was one of only a couple places in the valley that a ship could touch down. She hoped she had picked the right spot or she would be hiking rather quickly. Still the Verse flowed as it wished. It was her place to wait on it. She felt the approaching ship before she heard it. Her eyes opened.
In the clear blue expanse far above them, a ship breached the atmosphere. A dot at first, then it resolved into the silhouette of an Arrowhead Class Courier – average crew size of four, no weapons in the standard build, and at about an eighth the tonnage of Fortune's Echo, it was fast. So that's how James got to Three Hills so much sooner than Kinmont had expected. Still, that ship was large compared to a short-range shuttle. Thanks to Drake Loxley's foresight in negotiating a location in rough terrain the enemy ship landed a couple of kilometers away. Buccleuch and his guards would soon be arriving at the handoff site in their skiff.
Alden watched the Courier, a chill icing its way through his belly at the flyover. That vessel didn't bode well or instill comfort, but it did seem to be alone. He looked across the way then to a small clearing behind some low lying rocks where Drake and Jacy waited inside the Echo's shuttle, overt but protected. The small unarmed craft would be visible to anyone coming in, of course, but both were safely inside, merely waiting to exit stage left with Kindra once she was safe.
Matching whoever Buccleuch had seen fit to bring with him (besides the hidden Jonas and his spotter, Whit) out in the world in offensive defence, Team Echo had Zhang Quing and Kyle - a gunman on loan from Drake. Kyle stood to Alden's left, Kinmont to Alden's right, Quing was somewhere near where they assumed Buccleuch's ship would be able to land.
"We're as ready as we'll ever be," said Alden, steeling his expression and his form in readiness. "Nobody's dying today."
Jonas and his sniper rifle had been in place for quite a while already. He wanted to have enough time for the local wildlife get used to him. And to let the wind cover up any tracks he may have missed when he brushed them away with a shrub. And to get the lay of the land and local weather down. He was well hidden in some undergrowth at the bottom of one of the craggy outcrops about midway above the gathering point. It gave him a good line of sight on the whole stage.
He’d placed his earpiece in when he saw the Echo team arriving. He had to have communication with his spotter and Alden at least. And when Jimmy showed up, Jonas tucked the butt of his rifle into his shoulder.
“Nobody on our side anyway. Ain’t makin’ promises about them,” said Jonas.
"I'm okay with that," Alden noted quietly. "If'n it's necessary." The underlying message for Jonas there was - 'I trust you to make the call'.
"No badduns creepin' along neither," Whit reported. He was near Jonas with a perpendicular vantage point that allowed him to spot in all directions with the crag at his back rather than to his side as per Jonas. "Enemy overwatch gotta be already in place if they're even there."
"Sweep was clear," said Alden, himself, Jonas and Whit the only ones on the comm-link. Wherever Quing was, her stealth would be best served by not risking interruption, and Kinmont - well he was about to be handed over in payment.
On the shuttle, Drake sat at the console and scanned the area for any signs of hidden trouble. He turned to Jacy and smiled wryly. "Hoping you're good at patching up bullet holes," he noted. "Cos someone out there's gonna need ya."
Bullet holes. How shiny! As much as she loved being a doctor, and still being able to actually be one, Jacy wasn’t too keen on having to patch up bullet holes. But, being on the Echo had sure been interesting. “While it’s always nice to be needed, Let’s hope that will not be the case today.”
Drake went quiet for a moment, clearly considering some deeper thought that he chose not to share. When his reverie was complete, he studied the blond doctor for a good few seconds before speaking. "Let's hope indeed," he said, then paused before asking his question. "So, how do you know my brother? Are you one of his strays, or is he paying you to work for him?" The tone of the younger Loxley's voice mixed curiosity with a little contempt.
Beside her, Drake went quiet. Such a thing wasn’t usually a good thing, something she’d learned over the years. Sure it could mean any number of things, but when one was in a situation like she was, it made things tricky and sent her mind racing towards self preservation. Jacy’d already been bordering on nervous, heck, she’d been that way since joining the crew. Now though, with all that happening outside of the shuttle, with people she didn’t know putting their lives on the line for one another, it made her miss her brother. He’d do that for her… if she knew where in gorram hell he was. She tried not to fidget or seem nervous as Drake turned towards her once again, taking a few moments before speaking. Gee….he wasn’t holding back on the questions there was he? Like him, Jacy took some time before answering, unsure just what that was she was hearing in the tone of his voice, “A bit of both, I guess.” This time she turned to look at him, “Always this nosy?”
In contrast to the young woman, Drake took her silence as good. Guilty people in bad situations often overjustified their pretend position, but Jacy seemed meeker, perhaps worried even - though that wasn't overtly obvious. Not cocky, or sarcastic. Not pushing buttons. That all boded well from the fence's side of the... well, fence. And her response to his impudent questions was politely feisty. He liked that. Made him grin.
"A paid stray, huh?" Drake chuckled dryly. "Yeah, figures. Alden can't resist a rescue mission - person or property." He met her eyes with a confident amusement in his own, a little more relaxed by demeanour now. "Always nosy, yeah," Drake confirmed with a double nod. "Kinda comes with my business," he added. "Finding stuff, trying to figure folks out, making money, staying alive, y'know the usual. So a medic on the run?" He pushed a little further with a follow-up guess.
While she wasn’t certain if she’d been too…cheeky with her question, the grin that came onto his face definitely told Jacy otherwise. It hadn’t been one that she’d thought about, either, unlike many of the things she’d said since joining the crew. Being called a paid stray, though? Well, it was true, but that didn’t necessarily mean she had to like the term. Or even like being called such. And since it seemed like a statement more so than an actual question, she gifted him with a simple shoulder shrug. “They were looking for a doctor. Right time, right place, mostly.” she added, wanting to make herself feel less stray-like.
It was easy enough to hold his gaze with the idle chit chat that was taking place, “Figures.” Jacy responded, a touch of amusement hitting her lips, bringing a small smile to her face. Of course that didn’t last long, no matter how much practice she’d had over the years with the way his question flowed right along with the conversation. The smile faded as her any and all amusement fled her face, her eyes. There was no controlling the shock she felt, or the way the tingles of fear crept up along her spine, grabbing hold. Thankfully it didn’t quite trigger a fight or flight response, not that she could flee right now anyways.
Deflecting, she turned to glance out of the window. “How long do you think this will take?”
Right time, right place. Seemed Alden's luck hadn't all run out yet then. Of all the folks to show up at the right moment, a doctor was never a bad visitor. Drake had liked the previous one - what was her name? Dawson, yeah. That one. She had fire and good sense, like Alison, unafraid to correct Alden's errors of judgement and idiocy or to shove him back onto a sensible path. Drake regarded Jacy with an expression that mixed optimism and a skeptic's humour and wondered if she had the same underlying strength. He hoped so.
"If Alden's on form," Drake answered Jacy's question, cool faith based on more than enough historic data. "Not long. Usually goes to hell pretty quickly when my brother's involved."
Quing watched as the Courier ship touched down in the clearing she sat adjacent to. The low hanging branches kept her location from being directly seen. She watched and waited. No shots were fired, no alerts raised. A skiff carrying five passengers departed the courier and headed off in the direction of the hand off. She sat and watched for the actions of any remaining crew. Considering the size of the Courier ship, there wasn't room for more than one or two crew remaining behind. She breathed in. The residual exhaust of the skiff and the engines of the courier tainted the scent of the meadow. The animals had all gone to ground or were silently assessing the new comer to their territory. Likewise Quing waited for the right time, then gathered her kit and approached the craft.
With her hands tied in front of her and trying not to shiver in the cold wind, Kindra gritted her teeth against the pain in her side each time the skiff jostled her as the hovercraft flew over the rough terrain. In the middle pair of seats, James sat on her right, a gun in his hand, his knee bouncing with anticipation. James' men were split, two in the seats behind them, and two in front including the driver.
James had hardly spoken to Kindra. In the basement of Sunny Delights, his opening response to her demand he release her was a back-hand that knocked her hard to the floor, followed by three vicious kicks to her torso. Her right eye was swollen shut and she was pretty sure some of her ribs were broken or at least cracked. Kindra vaguely remembered one of James' men carrying her to the skiff, then the transfer to the tiny ship. She still wore the jeans and now-blood-streaked white button-down Ginny Angel made her change into. The socks Clarice gave her were damp and dirty.
This was bad. So bad. From what she'd been able to overhear on that small ship, Alden had somehow allied with her father, and had offered Kinmont in trade for her. James was overconfident, dismissing the crew of Fortune's Echo as an insignificant threat. She should be scared, but all she felt was remorse and fear for Alden and the crew of Fortunes Echo. It was her fault they were in danger. She should have left with Karen when they docked on Li Shen's. She could live with a broken heart if Alden and the others were safe.
"The senator isn't going to like this," said the driver whom Kindra had recognized as a long-time associate of James. "Kidnapping a companion could turn the Guild against her. If this doesn't work, the senator will disavow any knowledge or association. We'll be on our own."
Kindra took the opportunity to speak up. "He's right, James. It's not too late to let me go. Think of Margaret, she-." James' elbow connected sharply with her side and Kindra nearly blacked out.
"Relax, Salkeld. The Guild will never find out," said James smoothly, confirming Kindra's worse fears about his intentions. Her stepbrother resembled his father, a large man with a full head of pale hair, generally considered to be handsome. He wore an expensive dark three-piece suit lined with ballistic mesh. Salkeld, the driver, was similarly attired, while the other three were dressed like hired guns.
Up ahead, Kindra saw Alden waiting with… Kinmont. As the skiff came to a stop, the two guards from the back seat stepped down from the skiff. Kindra did her best not to cry out when James hauled her off the skiff and held her tight against him. Then he was walking her toward Alden and Kinmont, flanked by the two guards.
He was cool and calmly furious as all Hell kinda still standing there watching that crew fly into sight, pull to a standstill and land. Hand close to his Model B, NEWTECH Gauss Quadloads ready rock and roll. He was starkly aware of their vulnerability - himself, Drake's man Kyle and Kinmont - all stood out there like easy targets in the beautiful green wilderness. And then James dragged Kindra with him like she was some temporarily-precious bag of cargo, and Alden felt that coolness instantly vanish. That sound she made, that clearly plaintive expression of pain, cut him deeper than the anger rushing up within as he glimpsed her face. He had to look away, from Kindra to James, in order to form words rather than fire and take his chances.
"Nee Tzao Se Mah? I oughta kill you for that alone, you cowardly bastard," Alden spat the words at Buccleuch, while he forced his heartrate to remain calm and told himself if got a shot once Kindra was safe, he was damn well taking it. "You had no need to hurt her."
"Oh, but I surely did," replied James, a grin on his face as he watched Kinmont's reaction. He held Kindra tight with his left arm around her shoulders and casually gestured with the gun in his right. "Just to see the look on her daddy's face. Hold up now, where are my manners? She probably don' even recognize you. How many years has it been? Kindra, I'd like you to meet your traitor daddy. And Kinmont, this here is your baby girl, all grown up into a fancy whore just like her mamma."
'Traitor Daddy.' Well, that explained some of it at least. And if Kinmont survived this little to and fro he was damn well gonna do some more explaining too. At least to Kindra, Alden internally considered. All the pilot himself needed from this was zero casualties on his side and Kindra's safe return. But whatever else Buccleuch achieved - or didn't - today, he was getting his beating's worth of pain from Kindra's dad.
Kinmont's rigid poker face had slipped at the sight of the hurt inflicted on his daughter. He'd failed Kindra in so many ways, and all he had left was to make certain he didn't fail her now. James was baiting them, and he hoped Alden knew better than to fall for it. "You want me, James? Well, here I am. You let Kindra and these two gentlemen walk away first, then I'm all yours."
James shook his head, grin widening. "Now that I'm finally layin' eyes on you, Kinmont, I can't help but feel it'd be a shame to break up this happy little family reunion so soon. Matter of fact, I'm thinkin' that you and your daughter will be comin' back with me, an' those two disrespectful whelps you brought with ye are jus' a couple o' loose ends."
Whether Buccleuch's statement was a cue, or he was inspired by an over-abundance of enthusiasm for killing, the guard on Buccleuch's right pointed his gun at Kyle and fired.
"Hey!" Drake yelled at the shuttle's main window, the call and its ensuring cursing not making it further than the craft's interior. He thumped the console and looked to Jacy, anger colouring his face and tone as he spoke through gritted teeth. "Guess it's a good job I fitted him out with the decent armour, huh?"
Jacy didn’t want to be seeing what she was seeing, and if this was the start of things… that could only mean that things were going to get a lot worse. She jumped, startled at the outrage coming from the man beside her. Though, from what she understood, that was one of his men and well, who wouldn’t be outraged at one of his men getting shot? If too many of them got shot or injured, it was going to make her job hard, though, and that wasn’t going to be fun. “Yeah…”
Drake stood up and paced the bridge from consoles to entry point four times, circling back around then to rest his hands on the back of Jacy's chair (the co-pilot's high-backed comfortable seat). "Sorry," he said. Heavy sigh. Shift in position. Drake let go of the headrest and adopted a tense stance between the medic and the pilot's chair. "Sorry," he said again, calmer and genuinely apologetic. He looked somehow both world-weary and youthful in that moment, as he flicked his curls out of his face and allowed his cooler gaze to land back on Jacy. "I'm not mad at you." A softer sigh. "Just feel so useless."
She stiffened as he rose and like a wild animal caged and eager to attack, started to pace in the small space until he stopped. Did she like the way he stopped there behind her, hands coming to rest on the back of her chair? Nope. Especially not when he’d figured out that she was on the run.
“Surprised you aren’t out there playing with the big boys.”
Used to studying both marks and allies, Drake didn't miss Jacy's flinch, but neither did he overtly react to it. He swore he could feel the palpable tension in the woman as he stood behind her, though in fairness he didn't like being unable to look folks in the eye either. He shifted to stand before her, shrugged off his ill mood and sighed.
"Someone has to mop up after those who think they're the big boys screw things like this up," he noted, an ironic smile pulling at his mouth. Then his eyes brightened a little, the player and the salesman coming back to the fore of his personality, expression changing from serious to easygoing. "We're the rescue squad, remember?" Drake added,
Quing calmly approached the Courier ship where it rested on the ground. No one appeared to be on guard. Considering the diminiutive size of the vessel, they likely needed all their crew for the prisoner exchange that was liked about to get under way. That just meant the ship had normal electronic security protocols. Quing removed a standard maintenance scanner, used in most machine shops throughout the verse. It provided a quick breakdown of the overall maintenance of the vessel, fuel efficiency and general engine operational conditions. Nothing to crack into the systems of the vessel, but a common enough diagnostic that would be performed at any docking field or facility, the security system would not be alerted by it.
Selecting her bio signature as a technician, she approached the craft and lightly touched the manifiold on the engine intake adjacent to the fueling port. Like a domesticated tiger, the security system essentially purred at the prospect of a maintenance exam. Quing, while not being a mechanic of any real level had spent enough time around engines to know what made things operate properly. Via the scanner she told the ship to prepare for a level one diagnostic scan. It provided a brief window where she could make adjustment to external ports on the ship without it's alarm system being triggered. It was all the time she would need.
Withdrawing the EMP detonators from her belt she place two under the intake manifolds for the engine. With good fortune the ship would think its systems were being fine tuned and not make things difficult. Once secured, she stepped back from the vessel and triggered it to send the owner a reminder to have the fluids levels topped off and other common preventative maintenance tasks that should be scheduled whenever the ship returned to a proper port.
She walked back across the meadow to the shade and shelter of the tree she had been sitting under. She placed her pistol and knives on the ground and sat in proper lotus position, concentrating on her breathing. Now she just had to wait.
Never had Alden been so glad for Jonas' secure and secret position in cover, as he saw his brother's security guard hit the ground and stay down. Badly winded, hopefully, rather than deceased, but he didn't dare move to check right now, unwilling to expose a weak point to Buccleuch's team.
"Don't rightly seem fair, we came here to trade father for daughter. You can still slink away with your traitor," Alden said, and then, more for the hidden sniper than for James B's benefit. "Which is your favourite minion - guessing the one on your right with the smug grin?" As he spoke, quietly direct, Alden's gaze never left that unpleasantly uncomfortable and very temporary couple before him and while his hand hovered close to his gun, only his stare levelled at the one who currently held all the power. "Let her go so I can quit looking at you."
Jonas listened intently, searching for anything that might be a clue. Then he heard it. He moved his scope to the right of Jimmy B. and saw the smug grin that Alden mentioned. "Shepherd, ya got a fix for me?"
"Yeah, 410 yards," Whit said as he was squinting into a tripod-mounted set of tactical binoculars that covered half his face. "Let's say 1.25 MILS downrange. Wind blows left neat as you please. Dial up 9.5 MOA and 1 MOA right. Don't forget to say your prayers."
Jonas made the minute adjustments as the Shephard listed them off. His aim should place the projectile right in the man's chest. But right before he squeezed the trigger, he said, "Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Ya gotta kill to stay alive. Amen." Jonas added the last word with a smile and released his weapon's ire.
"Bâxīn!" cheered Whit. (Bullseye!)
"That's for killing Kyle, you bastard," muttered Alden, his fingers itching towards the Model B now, ready for Team Buccleuch's retaliation. He didn't know either way with absolute certainty since the man lay utterly still on the ground for the moment, but James' minion couldn't have been sure Drake's man would be armoured up when he'd fired. Intent was the important part of it all.
The guard on Buccleuch's right dropped, right where he'd been standing a moment ago.
"Sniper," called the guard on Buccleuch's left. "Get down, boss." He shifted his stance and raised his firearm to point in the direction of the shot and subsequent cheer. No target he could see, but he fired a covering shot.
Kindra had been unable to take her one good eye off Alden, her mind racing to think of a way warn them James had no intention of leaving behind witnesses. She knew Jonas had to be nearby, and when the guard dropped it was both her reassurance and cue. In desperation, she took a page from Daiyu's playbook, turned her head, and bit down hard on the soft meat of James left hand beneath the thumb.
On reflex, James yanked back his bleeding hand and shoved Kindra away from him, throwing her to the ground. He pointed his gun at her. "Chwee ni duh, jien huo."
Kinmont didn't stop to think. He threw himself on top of Kindra, to shield her with his body.
"Wind shifted toward us. Move 1 MOA up and 2 MOAs left," Whit called out through the binoculars, "and send that man to perdition!"
Meanwhile, out in the open, expression unhappily serious but calm, Alden gripped the cool handle of his weapon and felt the gun's weight. Gauss-mode backed by a weighty battery in the handle meant the round would pack a good whallop, though not nearly as much death as he figured James had invited. Quadload was a good start, was the abstract yet calm thought in his mind as his finger slid from trigger guard position to pick up the slack and fire.
"Copy that," said Jonas as he made the adjustments from the Shepherd. "To hell with him." Jonas pulled the trigger and watched through the scope.
In the cool, relatively low wind speed, the double exhale was still lost as both men - Alden and Jonas - let loose their intended killing shot. It seemed to Drake that time sped up as he waited, his pulse slow and steady, but for his elder brother there was only a calm certainty that whichever one of them took Buccleuch down, down was the best place for him.
Before James could pull the trigger and shoot both Kinmont and Kindra in a fit of rage, the electric jolt of Alden's weapon hit him. Realization of his mistake – dropping his human shield – just registered when the sniper's shot hit him square in the chest, knocking him flat on his back in an explosion of pain. James turned his head toward his still-standing guard, and ordered, "Shoot them! Shoot them all!" But the man ignored him, backing away fast.
Kindra spit James' blood from her mouth and struggled under the weight of her father, the crush adding to the pain around her ribs. She tried to get a look at Alden, to make sure he was all right. Shots were fired. James fell heavily to the ground only a few feet away.
The older Loxley brother moved forward with a swift, serious step until he stood looking immediately down at Kindra's kidnapper. He felt the unseen camaraderie of Jonas off to his left even as Alden extended his right arm and lined up Model B and Buccleuch's skull. He fired. The second shot sounded muffled amidst the emotion filling Alden's brain, though it rang in his ear no less for that sense of close distance. He stood, unflinching for a few seconds, simply feeling the solid clunk of closure.
Jonas had seen him fall, but then he saw Alden walking up and pointing he weapon at the man's head. Damned armor. That had to be it. He shifted slightly to the man's head and fired. Jimmy was gone. Finally. Jonas had wondered during his time as Kindra's bodyguard if he'd ever get the chance. Seems fate has a way of catching up.
At a full run, James' retreating guard barely managed to dive aboard the skiff, legs dangling off the side, as the pilot made a tight turn. The skiff sped away toward Buccleuch's ship.
Kinmont eased the protective shield of his body off and away from his daughter. He had so many things he needed to say to Kindra, apologies and forgiveness to beg. but now was not the time. He'd gotten a good look at the skiff's pilot – Salkeld, a man he recognized. A loose end he would tie.
Kindra spared one hard, loaded glance for her father, then turned her full anxious attention to the man she loved, the man who'd come for her with his friends and saved her. "Alden."
Kidnapper's body already long forgotten, pistol safely stowed in his side holster, Alden crossed the short distance with enviable speed to crouch down beside the wounded, prone young woman. Ill thoughts for her aggressor pushed to the back of his mind, trust gifted to his friend and his crew, Alden's focus was on one thing and one thing alone now - Kindra's safety. One hand sought hers, the other slipped behind her head to support her upward motion. "Can you move?" He asked, avoiding the obvious 'are you alright' option since that was a dumb question. Concern coloured Alden's tone, his expression and the aura about him while his first query was immediately followed by a concerned need to assist Kindra's removal from this place. "I'll carry you... Get you home safe..."
"When you're with me, I am home, Alden." With his help, Kindra managed to regain her feet, but leaned heavily against him. She shivered. "I can walk, with your support."
He didn't comment, argue or debate the point, well aware that while Kindra could out-debate him any day of the week he was confidently making the right decision in this case. Speed and medical attention took priority over the wounded woman's pride, so Alden scooped Kindra up into his arms, mindful though not wholly unable to avoid hurting her as he did so. "Sorry," he said softly to her closest ear, "no time or desire to watch you stumble." He jogged as swiftly as he dared towards the shuttle and neatly evaded Drake's swift exit in Kyle's direction.
"Jacy!" Alden called as he stepped himself and Kindra neatly into the shuttle, ducking carefully inside despite their unwieldy currently combined nature. "Gonna need your help and some of those painkillers, please. It'll be okay," he told Kindra with a warm tone, hoping he sounded confident. "We got ya." Then because the doc hadn't instantly appeared. "Jacy!"
Things seemed to happen rather fast: Alden scooping up Kindra and heading in her direction, in the shuttle’s direction, and Drake scurrying out as if someone had lit a fire under his ass…well, where had she picked up language like that? Her father would be so disappointed, if he were still alive. At first the sound of her alias being yelled didn’t register, but that was mainly because her thoughts had distracted her. She jumped at the next, a string of “Coming, coming…” flying from her lips. If she knew him better, knew the crew better, who knew what would have been blurted out.
Jacy stopped beside the captain, first glancing from him to Kindra and back. “Can’t really do much with you hovering, “Cap’n” she quipped before turning her attention to Kindra, “Let’s get you something to dull the pain before I start poking you and making things worse.”
"Yeah..." Alden didn't sound convinced, but then he needed Jacy to help here but also he didn't want to let go of Kindra. "Okay, okay," he conceded, but only after he'd carried Kindra into the shuttle and set her down on one of the bench seats. "We need to get back to Echo," he stated to no one in particular, caught somewhere between needing to rally the scattered troops and staying with the doctor and companion.
The vibrations of the skiff brought Quing's eyes to open as she sat beneath her tree. She looked out from under its leaves to see the small vehicle rushing into the meadow. She breathed out, then picked up her pistol and brace of knives. The speed of the skiff told her the hand off did not go well for Buccleuch's men. Indeed seeing only three people in the craft, indicated their had been loses, and those on board looked eager to break atmo.
The skiff slowed and pulled up alongside the courier ship, it's rear hatch opening to receive what was left of its crew. The driver and once of the body guards leapt down and started to open up the courier ship. Quing quietly walked towards the ship, thus far not being noticed any of the men that were busily trying to secure the skiff and prep the ship for getting out of the world. She walked right up to the man attending the skiff and dropped him to the floor with a quick high kick of her leg to his temples.
Calmly walking to the back hatch of the vehicle she could see the other hired Gun and Salkeld, the driver, triggering the engines for start up. She blocked the hatch door with her small figure and waited for the men to notice her. The hired gun went for his weapon as Quing lifted her target pistol and placed two silenced rounds into the man's neck. She then effortlessly shifted the gun to focus on Salkeld. "If you desire to live, please step outside." she informed him. Looking at the small bald woman pointing the weapon at this face he slowly raised his hands and stepped away from the controls.
In a minute or so, Quing had both the surviving men zip-tied and secured on the skiff. She left the courier ship open in case Alden desired to take a prize home for the day. If anyone stole it she could still EMP it to the ground remotely at her discretion. She looked at her two captives. "Do not fight or try to escape and you will be treated well." She powered the skiff up and brought it around to point back towards the clearing of the handoff.
"Well Preacher," said Jonas into his earpiece, "not a bad day's work. What say we grab a drink when we get back?"
"I'll say a hallelujah to that," Whit said as he began folding up the scopes.
"We're back at the shuttle," Alden added to their conversation via the comms, his voice carrying the overt concern for Kindra's condition and coloured with an urgency to have everyone back together. "Drinks are on me once we're somewhere safer and quieter," he added. Then, with emotion wavering the words more than enough for Jonas and Whit to discern the difference. "Thank you," Alden noted. "Thank you... and great shot. Never doubted you guys for a second." He really hadn't.
With Kindra safely in Alden's capable hands and the immediate danger gone, Kinmont searched James Buccleuch's body and took a portable cortex from the corpse's pocket. Then he checked the other Loxley brother's man Kyle. He was still breathing. "Hey!" he called out, looking in the shuttle's direction. "Kyle needs medical attention!"
Drake noted the motion of Kinmont close to the dead man's body, and the retrieval of... something. He'd assume - wallet, weapon or tech - but couldn't see for sure from his distance at the time. Once he'd covered enough to stand beside the Companion's father, he knelt to check on Kyle, gripping the man's hand and feeling the reassuring warmth. Kyle gasped, sucked in a pained breath and lolled his head back against the grass. "Ow..." he said, as he tested the limits of hia badly bruised ribcage with a few more breaths.
"Not dead yet," Drake said, the relief tangible in his tone as he waited to see if Kyle could stand on his own. "But, you're second in the doc's queue, so can ya walk?"
"Gimme a minute," came the strained reply.
Which gave Drake time to look to Kinmont and raise an amused eyebrow. "Work out the way you wanted?" Asked the younger Loxley, nudging a serious look to Armstrong's hand. "Get what you need?"
"Kindra lives, thanks to you and Alden and your people." Kinmont looked to the shuttle where Alden had taken Kindra to be treated by their medic. Suddenly, he felt very old. "I've taken James' cortex," he said in response to Drake's implied question. There was no point in lying about it. "I need to determine how he accessed Kindra's personal information in the companion registry, to set up his trap. And I need to discover what might lie in wait for Kindra when she returns home to Persephone." The cortex was also likely to contain other useful information, but that was secondary.
"You're welcome," Drake noted graciously, then with a wry smile, intoned four of his favourite words. "You owe us one." Never knew when collecting that debt might come in handy, especially for a man with Kinmont's implied connections. Details weren't necessary in order to make certain assumptions, and Drake's network had told him enough to know Kindra's dad would be useful sooner or later. He nodded as Kinmont confessed what he'd stolen. "Have some ideas," Drake offered. And while he doubted the older man would, he added. "If you need any support." Then he looked up as a familiar, but unexpected sound drew their attention. Was that the return of... yup... well now, that was unexpected.
The hum of the skiff could be heard over the breeze of the clearing. The small vehicle came in low and directly toward the group. A small bald headed driver was easily recognized as she brought her captives in to the group.
"Look what the cat dragged in," Whit quipped as he assessed the motley crew. He and Jonas had rejoined the group after scurrying down from their eagle's nest. "Reckon if they have any bounties, might be worth a fair piece a head." Looking down, he noted Buccleuch's stiffening body. "Alpha and Omega, beginning and the end," he intoned under his breath while flicking his hand over the body. "Any quarrel with them not being our own," he added at full volume.
Kinmont shook his head. "I'll need to claim Salkeld as my prisoner, for what he knows about James' plans, and… other things. I also must deliver James' body to his mother, Kindra's stepmother." He rubbed his temples distractedly, wondering how he would make that delivery to Margaret.
Turning to Drake, Kinmont said, "The ship will need to be disposed of. I presume you have... connections?"
Stood at the shuttle's door, half in and half out of the whole Kindra-Jacy interaction then drawn by the sound of the skiff's return, Alden dropped down into the mess of people now gathered on the breezy hilltop in the aftermath of all the expected excitement. He strolled to stand beside the others, canted his head to the side to regard the mellow form of Quing in her new vehicle prize and exhaled slowly. Complications. Why were there always complications? He couldn't help but trade a grimace for a small smile though, as he watched Kinmont and Drake interact in close proximity, but when he moved further into the group, Alden sought Jonas first for a fist bump and grateful, mutual nod of heads.
"Don't worry about the ship," Drake suggested with a clear confidence based on an experienced working knowledge of all the levels of market on Three Hills. "I'll handle it." First point of call was selling the nippy little Arrowhead Class Courier back to its current owner, depending on who that might be and what state of alive/dead they happened to be in these days. From there the options opened wider, and the fun pricing could begin. "I can handle the skiff too, unless..." the younger Loxley offered, gifting a raised eyebrow look to the elder.
Alden shrugged, his head full of emotion that didn't currently have space for much else bar the worrying. "I dunno," he said, unhelpfully.
"She's a pretty, fast lil hovercraft," Drake picked up a lazy sales pitch. "Let me get her all cleaned up and then decide," he noted, casting his gaze from Jonas to Whit to Alden and then throwing an impish wink to his brother. Clean in more ways than one, of course, untraceable and useful. Either way she was worth passing on to some lucky soul.
With an upward nod, and a rest of his hand on Kinmont's shoulder, Drake took a deep breath and made his next decision just as simply. "Let's me and you get these bodies loaded up in it, you can take Sakeld with you and I'll hop in the skiff with Quing here," he decided. "Leave you guys a bit more room in the shuttle. We'll catch ya back to homebase, I'll smooth some palms as needed, figure out how much these two folks are worth if anything and we can get our Kindra looked over properly too, right." It wasn't a question, or a slur on Jacy's ability, but concern for the companion.
"You're right," Alden conceded heavily, shoving his hands in his pockets for a moment as he rallied internally. He looked from Drake to Kinmont and back to Jonas and Whit, then jerked his head back towards Echo's subcraft. Anxiety successfully tamped down, adrenaline eased down several notches, he was more than ready to get off the bare-assed hillside. "Thanks, Drake. I'll fly the shuttle back. Let's all get the hell outta here."
