Throughout Emmett’s short speech, and Ursa Cooper’s own shortly after and the proceeding conversation Jean kept a mask of practiced impassivity. His years hustling skilled players at the card table granted him the ability to mask his thoughts and feelings, not just in his expressions but his words and body language. A good thing he did too. Jean hated it every time she brought up her chosen profession, and the conflict that existed between them. The respect he felt for this woman, her amusing attitude, and fiery personality was growing into something more, but a impassable barrier was set between them, one that Jean couldn’t ignore forever. They were allies of convenience, pursuing a common goal, or at least they possessed similar enemies and a mutual friend. His life choices pulled him in one direction, and hers another. Her trust in him to uphold an honor amongst unlikely allies dug the proverbial knife ever deeper, and twisted the jagged blade in his heart. Despite all his skill, Jean found he could not look her in the eye, and could only nod, staring remorsefully at the floor. It seemed loyalty was a fickle thing after all.

	[color=f26522]“You’d fallen off the grid for a few rotations, I was starting to worry about you, we didn’t need to lose another good ranger so soon.”[/color]

	Jean leaned against the [i]Ranger’s[/i] hull, checking periodically up and down hall to ensure he was alone. They were only a few minutes off from touching down on the moon and Jean had already inserted the coordinates into the small communicator. On the other end, halfway across the universe Director Jane sighed, the exhale of breath scratchy through the long distance encoded communication.

	[color=0072bc]“I haven’t been in a position to chat with ya lately. Been pressed tight, and kept a close eye on. The situation is, complicated.”[/color] Jean murmured, it was true enough to not be a total lie. Between fighting space battles, and the cramped quarters of the [i]Ranger[/i], subversive and secret communication was difficult to say the least. Though if Jean had been entirely honest he would have admitted to holding off making the call until the last minute.

	[color=f26522]“You’re under cover?”[/color]

	[color=0072bc]“Not exactly.”[/color]

	Director Jane’s silence was a question in of itself. Jean decided against explaining the intricacies of his situation over the radio static, instead pressing the Director for limited action, and informing her of the threats, which he could only assume would be upheld. The director wouldn’t hear of it though, her voice almost scolding through the comms device.

	[color=f26522]“No, Ursa Cooper is wanted for millions of kredits throughout the known galaxies and beyond. I cannot in good conscious abandon a score like that because she helped you once. I’ll hold off raiding her facilities until you are out of danger for retaliation. I won’t say it again, no bargains, no deals, that’s final.”
[/color]

	Jean pressed his forehead against the steel wall, his hat, a large burn hole through the middle pushing up and falling off, held from descending to the ground by a leather strap fastened around his neck. The leather’s bite at his throat felt fitting, the hat’s weight pulling down on the leather even left a thin crimson line, a reminder of the betrayal. But was it truly betrayal? Was he not upholding his oath of office? The question permeated his thoughts even as Director Jane continued.

	[color=f26522]“I’m assigning a squad of rangers to shadow your movements sheriff. If you ever need assistance they’ll be close enough to pull you out, but far enough back so your hosts aren’t alerted. Keep up the good work sheriff, I expect a report within a week, if I don’t get it I’ll assume you died in the lion of duty.”[/color]

	The line went dead and Jean hid the communicator in his pocket, pacing up and down the hall, silent and brooding.

~*~*~

	Leeroy’s triple toes curled, digging into the red sand that dominated the beach and coastline. Jean had been overjoyed to find that the smugglers had also kidnapped his spughoss Leeroy, storing the loyal beast in a cramped cargo hold. Jean led him out with them, lettining the equine stretch his muscled legs and shake his white mane, the oxygen sacks on his nose flaring happily in the rich air.

	His three toed feet left large prints in his wake as he snorted and stomped, his large watery eyes rolling as he reared to run. Jean laughed, a very different man than he’d been only minutes before, his confusion and internal debate hidden behind a guise of good natured humor. [color=0072bc]“Hang on ya big dolt, let me get ya loose.”[/color] Jean uncliped the harness, swatting Leeroy’s flank and sending the great spughoss stampeding away from them, prancing across the sands as delicate as a cat and splashing into the water like a foal at play.

	Turning back to the conversation he’d been mostly ignoring he saw a flushed Ursa, and a semi strangled Aquaria standing together looking at him. “Uh, howdy marm.” He grinned, touching the brim of his hat. [color=0072bc]“Thankee kindly for your hospitality, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance I’m sure.”[/color]

	Stepping around the girls he followed the pleasant seeming Jim into the warehouse. Even Jean, who'd seen some large underground organizations in his time was impressed by the grand scale of the operation. There was something to say about the classier criminals, they knew how to organize and operate better than some multi-galactic corporations. All under the radar as well. Stepping up to a crate he slid it open, eyeing the line of highly illegal carbon evaporators stored within. Jean shrugged, tossing one to Emmett. [color=0072bc]“Better gear out in the best they’ve got if they’re offering it free. Those sell at top dollar on the black-hole markert, I should know. I’ve raided a few sell zones myself. Smugglers tend to think that a deadly weapon is all it takes to end a bust, so they like to keep them handy...”[/color] Jean padded over to the next orange crate, flipping it open to find a more humble collection of clean clothes, and another to find poached items. He pulled out a pair of jeans, and a moonmoth silk button up, (also highly illegal due to the endangered state of the moonmoths, and the process required for extracting the necessary silk,) the fabric was unbelievably soft and supple, and sturdier than steel wool and well sought after by big name buyers. Jean had a special hatred in his heart for poachers, but the smuggled good had already been made, there was nothing he could do about it now. Tearing off his grimy and ragged shirt he pulled the navy blue moonmoth silk over his back, buttoning it up and pulling ivory lined crimson vest on over it. The jeans fitted well enough as well, and he buckled on a deep sea offilaos ray leather gun belt over them, tightening the strap before slipping a revolving carbon disintegrator, pistol configuration into the holster. He kept his hat, despite the plasma burn straight through the center of it, shoving the wide brimmed rancher down low over his eyes, tufts of his brown hair protruding through either side where the plasma had gone straight through.

	[color=0072bc]“I suppose,”[/color] he said, justifying his new getup and weapon more for himself, than for Emmett who stood beside him. [color=0072bc]“That if I’m riding shotgun for smugglers an’ assassins like y’all, I might as well dress like one.”
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