Skeletons

Posted on Mon Aug 21st, 2023 @ 4:20am by Danielle Loxley & Jonas Bailey & Whit

Mission: Oh, Give Me a Home on The Range
Location: Ezra - Tobin Town
Timeline: 18 November, 2517 - Late Afternoon

Danielle Loxley had plenty of memories from time in Tobin Town, with and without Jonas over the years. It was a day's ride, a few hours by land vehicle and a quarter of that by shuttle, but a shuttle, if folks would forgive the rhyme, wasn't subtle. And Elle was aiming to at least start out on the quieter side of demanding information. Or the louder side of listening to the usual whisperers. Take your pick. As it happened, she didn't have to work hard at all before news found her all on its own.

"Hey Dani," said a familiar voice in greeting as she led Jonas and Whit into one of her usual haunts, a bar called 'The Rocket' and a regular mid-point of a post-rodeo drinking session. "Lady was asking after you the other day."

"Seb, y'all good?" Elle turned to the dark-skinned, skinny cowboy with a friendly smile and received one in return from her rodeo-buddy before she followed up with her next question. Jonas might recognise him, too, but it had been a while and a lot of folks crowded about the bars in those long evenings of drinking. "Asking how?"

"Manner of a lil-too-curious stranger, if ya get my drift," Seb said. "Told her I hadn't seen ya. She seemed like the type who figured you owed her money or a favour." He noted the confused expression and kept going. "Olive skin, dark eyes, tall, slender and serious-looking. Didn't get a name. She had a couple of lackeys who didn't want us to know they were such, but they were playing pool when she came in and left right after she did."

"Okay, thanks," noted Elle. "But what was she asking?"

"Wanted to know if you came into town often, kept looking at the photo of you from last year's rodeo." Seb continued. "Oh - asked after your brother."

"Which one?"

"The big one," said Seb, gifting Jonas and Whit a studious look now. "Everything alright?"

"No," Elle answered honestly. "Momma got shot. Alden came on back and someone took a shot at his ship." She watched Seb's expression and it was clear that said news hadn't yet made it back to the town. "So, what did you tell this nosy lady, Seb?"

He held his hands up in defensive stance. "Me? Nothing I swear, but I ain't the only one who knows you folks." He looked to Jonas again, before asking Elle. "Mrs L okay?"

"She'll be okay. But we need to know what's going on, Seb." Elle studied him closely as the man shrugged and adopted a 'I know nothing' expression. Her cortex buzzed with an incoming call, and the young woman excused herself to move out of earshot and answer.

Whit stepped forward and placed a platinum chip on the bar. "Sarsaparilla or somethin' kin to it, plus whatever my cohort here wants." Sliding the chip forward, Whit said, "You can keep the change if you can elaborate on the lackeys. Height, facial hair, distinguishing marks, general disposition, overheard talk and all the like."

Seb's gaze lingered comfortably on the platinum chip as Whit spoke his words and made his play. A wonky smile graced the younger man's face and he nodded. He owed those folks nada, but money was always welcome. "Lass was five-five, White, late 20s, black hair long but tied up, blue eyes, party dress over leggings, work boots, tattoos on her arms of roses and skulls, full sleeves impressive art," he stopped himself. "Fella was five-ten, Chinese and lanky but shifty-looking. Shaved head, old eyes but reckon 30-something. Cargo trousers, sleeveless shirt, no tatts."

"Tap," said Jonas, still rather stoic. He hadn't missed the glances from Seb earlier, but wasn't sure if he could place him. There'd been a lot of water under the bridge by this point. "And don't be skimping on the details." He studied the man for a moment, trying to take in what he could. Or clear the cobwebs in his memories. "Don't suppose they chatted up anybody else in here? The lady or the lackeys?"

Seb looked to Whit for his pay-day before answering Jonas' two questions, the round of drinks arriving at the same moment. His gaze didn't falter, or divert to the big fella with the dreads even a little bit.

The platinum coin flipped up from the bar top with a flick of Whit's thumbnail into Seb's waiting palm.

And was caught with quiet efficiency, only to be equally swiftly tucked into a inside jacket pocket. A nod of acknowledgement followed, then Seb glanced from Shepherd to gunslinger with a smooth transition in both action and words.

"Lady spoke to a few folks on the way through to accost lil ol' me," Seb answered Jonas' question. "Figure she didn't get what she wanted from the others either. As for the other two, they were playing it incognito if you catch my drift, but I know most of the regulars in here, and they ain't them. They were trading coin for shots on the pool table, general chit-chat, nothing that stood out. I didn't pay them much attention bar the obvious." That being Short Dress, Pretty Lady. "But I caught a look between them when she left, don't think I was 'sposed to connect."

Behind Seb, Elle appeared back into view, still on a call, but looking worried now as she headed back towards Jonas and Whit.

"That gal with the rose tattoo," Whit said. "Didn't happen to fancy a cigar, did she?"

Seb considered this for a moment. "She didn't smoke while I was watching 'em," he added. "But come to think of it, she was rolling something in her hands when she took a break, looked kinda like a wrapped cigar now you mention it..."

Jonas had missed Seb's description of 'tattoos on her arms of roses and skulls' regarding the mysterious lady. But when Whit used the phrase 'rose tattoo,' It sparked a recent memory of an interaction on the cargo bay of the Echo. It probably meant nothing, but he filed it in the back of his mind just in case he got a chance to personally talk to this lady.

In the more immediate, the fact that she was rolling what could have been a cigar between her fingers did catch his attention. "Well now, ain't that a coincidence. Don't reckon anybody saw what they got into when they left, did they? Or if they took off on foot?"

"Hey, Luke," Seb quietly called the attention of a cowboy wandering diagonally across the bar's interior. The stocky palely-tanned man changed path and wandered on over. dropped his hat on the bar and indicated he was thirsty in the direct manner of pointing at his open mouth. Seb smirked. "Yeah these folks gotcha," he said, simply. "You see Short Dress and Lanky Bald Fella leaving earlier?"

"Yup," said Luke, apparently trusting Seb on the drinks side of things. End of shift, day of watching the front door, honestly any beverage that'd wash away the dust would be fine by him at this point. "I seen 'em getting onto a Mule, reckon they was headed to the port."

"How'd ya figure?"

"Said something 'bout a shuttle trip."

Which ended up being the cue for Elle to stroll back into the conversation, call done and expression concerned. "That was my little brother," she said, not naming Drake to all and sundry. "He called to say he's sorry." Her hand sought Jonas' own with a tight grip and squeezed, an overt sign that Elle was now officially worried, but didn't want to get into details out here in the open.

"That was a long apology," Whit noted without a hint of the suspicion laced within the subtext. "If he's coming planetside, mayhaps we could meet him at the port. Seems some breadcrumbs lead there."

"Yeah..." Elle said on an exhale. "Not yet, anyways, but agreed - we should definitely head to the port. I'll let Alden know, might be better to have a shuttle meet us there? It's gonna be a long trip back after otherwise."

Whit gave a nod. "Reckon you're right."

"Handmaiden and Gretsle it is then. Or whatever those old nursery tales called them. Let's go," said Jonas.

---

Taking the Mule with the three of them on board across rough roads for a couple more hours gave the three plenty of time to talk, even if it was conversation muffled by dust-masks and background noise. It did also mean that said conversation was private, however that was the only real bonus. Elle brought Whit and Jonas up to date from her call with Drake.

"So," she shared the details as succinctly as possible, given their current geography. "Drake's being held up there by Niska's men for the moment. He couldn't say much, but I can read between the lines well enough. He's valuable to Niska," Elle informed them both. "And he's been using Alden for smuggling for a long time. Something my big brother kinda ignores for the most part, to keep the peace, but they don't really talk about. This is... different. Something specific to Fortune's Echo. Something Niska is allowing, goes without saying, on account of it's happening on Ezra. Drake says he doesn't know why. But I have a bad feeling 'bout it. It feels.... I dunno... kinda important, but shady, y'know what I mean?"

Whit nodded but said nothing.

A hard sigh into the dusty wind, and Elle continued a bit further.

"They found Echo about eight months ago, kinda weird circumstances. I'm starting to think mebbe that was down to Drake too..."

"And you're wondering whether Alden ever took a proper look at all the nooks, crannies, and accounts that all might hold secrets coming home to roost." Whit's ever-present smirk faltered some but never went away. "Maybe with the ship half blown to perdition, this is a good time as any to get up in the cracks and crevices in search of Lord only knows what."

Elle nodded, and looked just a little bit more worried than she had before.

Jonas squeezed her hand. "We'll figure something out, weird circumstances and all. Well, maybe not the weirdness. But at least we can crawl in the innards of the ship for a bit." He chuckled a little. "Better than crawlin' around in other innards, I reckon."

As she gave Jonas’ hand a friendly crushing in return, Elle gathered her strength internally and let all those thoughts percolate for a moment or two. Jonas was right, they’d figure something out, but also this was way too close to home. “I guess,” she said quietly, “I’m just used to the boys’ troubles being… out there. Not here so much.”

Her attention turned to Whit as the Shepherd started speaking.

"So are we thinking the folk who shot Mother Loxley are the same folk who shot down the Echo?" Whit asked rhetorically. They'd already established as much, but his train of thought had left the station and he was laying track. "Because if these folk have Niska's blessing, then there ain't no way off this rock and everyone at the family ranch are fish in a barrel." His gray eyes turned steeled. "Reckon we might need to get a little proactive at the spaceport, otherwise we're liable to end up on the short end of the stick right quick."

“I reckon so, yeah,” Elle confirmed, at least from her own point of view. “But I wouldn’t exactly say Niska was giving his blessing. Drake more implied that he was giving them some rope by which to hang themselves with.” She considered this, and noted the setting of emotion in Whit’s gaze as he made his own judgement call.

“If they wanted to kill us, they’d have done it by now,” suggested their currently present Loxley. “But we do make some real pretty hostages, now don’t we,” Elle added, grimly. “I dunno, I get to feeling if this was personal to us folk they’d be all up in our faces right now, guns blazing, making threats. They ain’t. That, plus Niska staying his hand? And Drake being all silent? Makes me think this is Echo related, more so than people. We find out what they want from y’all’s ship, then mebbe the tension eases some. Or,” she said, giving Jonas’ hand a harder squeeze. “We bring ‘em all out into the open.”


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