[h2]Plans Over Breakfast[/h2] [h3]Day 3 - Morning[/h3] [img]https://i.imgur.com/9EEfm1s.jpg[/img] JP/Collab by [@Gunther], [@sail3695], and [@wanderingwolf] Sausage. Hook had sausage! Fer the life of ‘er, Abby couldn’t suss out how the wily cook found half what he did. An’ it was good sausage, ta boot. He taught her a new trick...pourin’ a little syrup onta her plate an’ swishin’ them patties around in it. Tha spicy sausage, all drippin’ that sweetness, was like ta make her close her eyes an’ let loose a mighty “Mmmmmmm!” [center][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B9FzVhw8_bY&list=RDB9FzVhw8_bY&start_radio=1]Local radio music[/url][/center] The aromas coming from his galley drew Cal’s nose, and the rest of him followed, growling stomach and all. Armed with the day’s clipboard, the captain sauntered right up to the coffee pot. Hook had a cortex back by his stove, playin’ local music through a tinny sounding speaker. Abigail was seated at the table, her face all rapturous as she worked over her breakfast. “Mornin’ Hook”, he lifted his coffee mug in salute. “Got any more of that?” “Monrin’ Cap’n,” Joe responded to the captain. “Coffee’s in the pot over yonder.” The captain’s eye fell onto his youngest crew member. Abigail looked much improved since their sit down yesterday mornin’. He took note of her boxers, the first thing he’d seen on her which wasn’t a touch on the threadbare side. The fresh ocean blue, spotted with ships’ wheels, compasses and sextants, offered a glimpse into the sort of carousing the girl conned her way past him for last night. [i]A right little Jezzebel,[/i] he smirked at the sight of her legs, their white skin made reddish brown on the front half. “Abigail,” he greeted the deckhand, “I see we’re gettin’ fat.” “Promish I’ll work it off,” she give him a raised eyebrow. Joe Hooker held back a giggle as he tended to cleaning up the galley area. “That you will.” He spied the leftover waffles. “Hook, got any more of that sausage? Don’t think it’s fair for Abigail to be the only one puttin’ on weight.” “Not a problem, Cap’n,” Joe went back into cold storage and retrieved the sausage. “Found these at a store named, Wisniewski after the owner. Love these sweet and spicy sausages. Good stuff, Cap’n. Ah’ll fry ‘em up on the griddle fer ya.” A plate landed before him, covered with a generous helping of sausage and waffles. “Not sure how you do it,” Cal said as he slathered butter over the waffles. Next came the syrup, which cascaded down the breakfast like a viscous waterfall. “Not sure I should be askin’,” he chuckled before loading in that first bite. “Mmmm….oh…” his eyes rose to the ceiling. “I ain’t askin’...” “Ain’t sayin’ I never et well afore,” Abby rose from her chair. “Jest ain’t never et so well so often. Hook, yah got tha touch,” she give ‘im a grateful smile as her dishes went inta tha sink. After a quick rinse, she filled ‘er coffee mug once more. “What’s on tahday’s plan, Cap’n?” “Thank you, Miss Abby, Ah’s appreciate ta compliment.” Joe maintained focus on his duties while listening to the Captain. “For you?” Cal shut his mouth, wiping away a drop of escaping syrup. He gave the clipboard a few taps of his finger as he worked the food down. “My cargo bay’s lookin’ a might sparse this morning. How about you do some ‘Abby-cadabra’ and get me something else to haul?” She took her seat. “I’ll git what can be got, Cap’n.” He finished another bite, this one a dripping combination of waffle and sausage. “And one more passenger.” Her brows lifted. “Thought I’s off tha hook fer that?” The captain shrugged, then met her eye directly. “Had a change of heart...late last night.” The flush rising to the girl’s cheeks offered it’s own reward, but he decided to press on with something a bit more cheerful. “Besides, what with me given’ Hook some extra coin to go food shoppin’ this morning, we need to make it back somewhere.” [color=ffd700][b][i]”When you’re a spy...oh, forget it. Never try to put one over on the captain.”[/i][/b][/color] Abby hid her shameface behind the mug fer a tick, then followed the Cap’n as he changed tha subject. “I’ll git one, Cap’n. What we gotta do tah prep fer the tuna pickup?” “You told me you did some mechanickin’?” Cal asked. “Aboard your Uncle Bob’s boat?” She nodded her head. “Can’t rebuild a core or tha like, but I conjure all the gazintas an’ goesouttas perty well.” “Shiny.” The captain loaded his fork again. “Ride the lawnchair til noon. Then I want you in the engine room for preflights. Have ‘er buttoned down and ready to break shore power by two. Almost forgot,” he said after another morsel was swallowed. “Got a new catalyzer. Pop it into place.” She give a nod. “Yessir, I got it.” The music from Hook’s cortex stopped, replaced by a news report. Cal turned in his chair. “Hook, Rex and I will prep the cargo bay for the tuna pickup. This’ll be done at a hover, over a fishin’ boat. Rex’ll ride the net down onto the boat deck and set each load. You an’ I will run the hoist and strap ‘em down as they come aboard, [i]dohn mah?[/i]” “Roger that, cap’n,” Joe responded to the Captain’s question. The captain took another bite. The room fell silent as a breaking news story was read aloud. [b][i]“Tragedy on the Eastern Sea, due to Hurricane Daniel. The ore carrier NS Eileen McSorley has been reported missing by the New Melbourne Marine Patrol. A search and rescue effort is underway. The McSorley did not issue a distress call before she disappeared from radar. She has a crew of thirty-five. No further information is available. In other news, today sees the beginning of King Tuna Season. Ports all along the Southern coast are busy this morning, as both anglers and professionals are casting off to be on the fishing grounds for this afternoon’s start. Though the hurricane will make for rough seas on the Eastern edge, the storm’s Northerly path presents a negligible hazard at best... ”[/i][/b] “And that’s us,” Cal observed. “Our fishin’ boat worked the East corners. Might be a little choppy, but nothin’ most of us haven’t seen before.” “Too bad about that ship,” Joe shook his head. “Wonder if anyone survived?” Joe wondered about the crew that went down with the ship. “Yes, cap’n the choppy seas won’t be bad a tall, fer us in this Firefly. The boat below us on the other hand will more likely be rocking ‘bout, but with the first officer down below, we should be all right.” “Ah’ll take those credits and git more veggies and fruits for cold storage. Mebee somethin’ else fer meats or spices. Ah’s ah takin’ care of dis ere crew, cap’n.” Joe Hooker smiled at the Captain. Abby downed her final swallow of coffee. “Then I’d best get tah gittin’,” she said as she pulled herself up. “Wear those short cutoffs again,” Cal said. “Yew tryna tell me that sex sells?” she turned back. “Shoot no,” he pointed at her legs with his fork. “You need more sun, kid. For the life of me, those legs make me wonder if we’re puttin’ up Noel decorations or openin’ a barber shop.”