Go Your Own Way

Posted on Mon Apr 17th, 2023 @ 11:51pm by Morgan Martin & Alden Loxley

Mission: Oh, Give Me a Home on The Range
Location: Ezra - remote conversation
Timeline: 18 November 2517 - sometime after landing

Greta Forester. A name from his past who had wandered quietly into his present with a lazy grace. Engineer, fiery independent soul and friend. One of those folks who rose and fell with the sames tides as Alden did, ducking and giving with the free trade of the Verse and washing up on shore at the same taverns on occasion. A trusted ally with a brutally clear mission in life.

So, when she name-dropped someone and the words 'between jobs', Alden listened. Pushed back, complained and protested, but listened. He didn't want to give up Ali's position, and he was (he told himself and Greta easily enough) more than capable of handling the day to day piloting needs of Fortune's Echo. He didn't want someone else in the mix, did he? Well, then, if he was so damn sure, why was he still talking this through...

---

"No promises," he'd said, hanging up on the wave from Greta with a comfortable sense of inevitability. Fate worked in mysterious ways and it seemed this Morgan fella was in the Georgia System too, so perhaps it was time to reconsider his lone wolf approach to piloting and at least give this guy a chance. If Morgan had come out of a war-time, working relationship with Forester in her good books, worthy of a recommendation no less, then he deserved at least a conversation.

Alden opened the channel, using the coded recommendation link from their mutual friend, and promised himself to give Morgan the benefit of the doubt. "Hey," he said, offering up a gruff smile as the call connected. "Alden Loxley. Greta tells me you're looking for work?"

"Alden, Alden!" A man smiled back from the other side of the channel. His broad, naive smile and clean complexation were perhaps at odds with any image that Greta might have created about an old buddy from the war, but perfectly inline with the cheerful, friendly pilot that he was. "Hello hello!" Morgan straightened up his camera. The room behind him had wooden walls and a half-made bed - no doubt picking up this call from an inn or some room at port, rather than from a ship. "Greta mentioned you - only nice things, of course -" he grinned - "so I was wondering when I'd hear from you."

Okay, so, first impression was that this fella seemed like a nice guy. Alden tried not to show his immediate happiness about this fact, because, well, Ali had instilled in him a need to be more paranoid about folks. Problem being, the reason she'd been trying to school him on this front was down to Alden's weakness of making snap decisions about people, usually for the better rather than worse, and then spending more time trouble shooting and resolving issues than might have been necessary if he'd just listened to his partner in crime.

Still, this wasn't a random stranger, was it, Alden chastised himself. This was a friend of a friend. He allowed himself a genuine grin at the clean-cut man before him and heard the ghost of the Echo's co-owner sigh in his mind's eye - or should that be ear?

"Martin," he acknowledged with an amiable tone. "I've had the verbal download from Greta too," Alden confirmed. "She had a few complaints, but I'd be worried if she didn't," he added with a soft chuckle, the humour following through into his next statement too. "Good to know she's generous when she talks about me though, thanks."

He sized Martin up for a moment, as if the cut of a man's jib could be judged at distance via a vid-call, and assumed Martin was doing the same from his side of the call. When he spoke again, Alden's voice was decisive and confident, his mind made up already, or so it seemed. Behind him, unblurred and clear now, was the familiar scenery of a Firefly-class transport's bridge.

"Greta suggested you might be in the Georgia System," Alden said. "How far from Ezra are you, currently? I mean, we can trade a few questions like this, but in person is better."

Morgan continued to smile at the man, taking in both him and his ship. "Please -" he gave a small chuckle. "Call me Morgan." He eyes flicked back to the background behind Alden. Was that a Firefly? Well, older ships like that were common out here. It was a larger transport than the one he used to own, and a smaller one than the ship he'd just finished flying.

"And it just so happens to be that actually I'm on Ezra right now! So, Alden - Captain Loxley - is it alright if I just called you Alden?" Morgan shrugged, leaning back into his chair. A rooster crowed in the background of his call; it couldn't have been more than a yard or two away. "Anything you still want to know about me? Because I'm more than happy to answer any questions!" He spoke in a tone that implied he would genuinely be happy to answer questions. "I do got a couple for you as well. How many folk you got on your crew? And, like, you don't got any guns on your ship, do you? I'm not very good with guns." Morgan delivered that last line with an almost apologetic grin. Alden looked like one of those solid, reliable Captains he had seen so many times since he had taken to flying. And if Greta trusted him, well, he must be good.

"Morgan it is," confirmed Alden, watching the man study both him and the scene behind him. He raised his eyebrows, leant back in his pilot's chair and laughed then as Martin announced his current location. Verse certainly worked in mysterious ways... but then there was the pinch of conscience and concern at the options aligning before him. He'd have to choose. Go to Morgan, or bring Morgan here.

"What are the chances, eh?" Alden asked rhetorically. "And yeah, you can call me Alden, no one calls me Captain," he added, tone implying he didn't expect them to either. "There's six of us, with some hangers-on right now. And nope, no ship ordnance, just decoys." Wasn't as if either of those were highly classified, there weren't many armed Fireflys out in the Verse. Questions then... what did he need to ask... Again, he missed Ali for a moment, she always had the fearsome queries ready and waiting. "Okay, well let's get the easy ones outta the way, shall we?"

"Why are you out of work, right now - choice or circumstance? Anyone after you for any reason - any trouble following behind you? What's your usual pay rate and who was your last patron? And, how the hell did you end up on Ezra - deliberate decision or blowing in the wind?"

"Good, good." Morgan smiled upon hearing that the ship was unarmed. He was a pilot, not a fighter... and some of his previous employers, unfortunately, had expected him to do both. Too many ex-fighters now running civilians pilot jobs out here, Morgan assumed.

The man thought for just a moment before responding to Alden, adjusting the loose collar of his shirt. "Wells, happens I'm here out of work, a bit on choice, bit on circumstance. I was training up my last captain's nephew to be a pilot. And he got good enough to take over. Ship didn't need two pilots, but they were too nice to fire me, so I took it upon myself to quit. Been on Ezra for a couple weeks; not really looking too hard for a job, friend got me set up in their spare room, but volunteering at a little school here, getting them an encyclopedia program running." The way the pilot spoke, with a passionate glimmer in his eye, and there was no mistaking this man's honesty. "Last patron was Captain Maxwell Godfrey, of the Sun Dragon. A nice man. Thick accent though. Not sure which accent, but its thick." Morgan chuckled, picking up a pen from his desk and twirling it in one hand. It was true; Morgan wasn't in this for the money. Truth be told, he still got an allowance from his family. He knew his rates were cheaper than most, and he was a decent pilot, so even without advertising he had a few people asking to hire him. He'd turned them down. Morgan was willing to wait and find the ship that fit his specific requirements, especially if he got to be useful, and contribute to some kids' educations while he was waiting. Greta said this Alden fellow might be a good match. And it seemed, so far, he was.

"As for the rate, well, I do two and a half. If I'm here in sixth months, I expect that to go up to three." He shrugged. It was simply a statement. Morgan acted cheerful and naive, yes, but he used to captain his own ship, and he wasn't going to waste Alden's time by bumbling around a direct answer. "I got a pretty clean record. No folk after me, far as I know. Heck, I don't even have any angry exes-" Morgan gave a hearty laugh. He did watch Alden though, as he laughed. He was offering a good deal, and had Greta's word behind him, but some of the rim captains out here were paranoid enough to think that his deal was too good - a cheap rate, a clean record, and a half-hidden core world accent.

As he watched and listened to the pilot talk, Alden internally collated the information Morgan was gifting with the bits and pieces Greta had shared. It all matched up, and the fella seemed every bit as genuine as advertised. He wondered if Ali would be proud, or mad, or if she even cared anymore, then dismissed that as mostly emotional baggage to process later. Morgan's tale of his last job answered a lot of other questions that Alden now didn't need to ask, and his good feeling calmly suggested this was a gift from the Verse for once. A Good Thing to Happen. Maybe some of his good luck coming back around?

"I've heard of Max and Sun Dragon," the Echo's captain confirmed. "Can't always understand him," Alden grinned. "But I have met him a few times. Run in the same circles every so often. His son's flying now, huh?" Rhetorical question. "Good job on the upskill." He paused for a moment, out-of-sight hands just dropping a quick text wave in Captain Godfrey's direction, then leant forward and looked Morgan in the eyes.

"I gotta tell ya something before you and I mutually agree to working together though," Alden said, honestly. "My ship's an old Firefly, a rescue, and it's currently down one working VTOL engine out here in the boonies. We've been landed just a few hours, but it'll be a minute before we're back up in the Black. If'n you didn't want to wait for us, I'd understand, but... if you're up for it, I'm happy to take you on right now - your going-rate works for me no issues - and it'll give you a chance to get to grips with us all, see if you're happy with the fit on the crew and, well, no harm no foul if not." There was a pause as Alden made the final decision in his head first, his emotions questioning his generosity.

"We're staying with my family, but you're welcome to join - or wait til we're mobile - I wouldn't hold it against you if you didn't want to leave the port for a ranch out in the middle of nowhere," Alden noted, the smile wrapped about his face an amicable one with a couple of ironically raised eyebrows. "But there's room enough for ya if you don't mind playing homestead-family for a lil bit. I can come pick you up in our shuttle." That would give him a little suss-out time before Morgan would meet everyone else. "Whatcha reckon?"

"Yeah-" Morgan smiled. "They're just about done getting that encyclopedia set up around here anyway. As long as your family doesn't mind another guest," he chuckled. An old Firefly, down to one VTOL engine, was about what Morgan expected out of this. The man figured that getting a chance to meet the crew before setting off was never a bad idea.

"Wouldn't offer if we minded," noted Alden with good humour evident in his tone and expression. "We could use any the help we can get just eating all the food my mum's prepped!" He half-joked. "Drop me your location and I'll come get ya."

"Sounds good!" Morgan smiled, sending over the coordinates just as another rooster crow filled the background.