[center][h2]The Nickel Tour[/h2][/center]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/pgUwMpQ.jpg[/img][/center]

JP/collab from [@deegee] and [@sail3695]


[i]I’ll be gorramed,[/i] Abby smiled at ‘erself.  [i]Sneaky Pen,[/i] she conjured on jest how the pilot done maneuvered ‘erself right past the girl’s questions ‘bout dancin’ with the Cap’n.   [i]This ain’t over.[/i]  Smile stuck tah her face as she picked up ‘er book once agin.

[b]The ko-dee-ak was smart; apparently he’d fallen through thin river ice before.  He ran along the bank, pacing Mei Lin, each heavy grunt expelling a puff of vapor to mark his progress.  The left bank offered her no escape, it’s jagged bluffs affording no handhold for her to climb.  And so, she ran upon the snow topped ice, her lethal pursuer showing no signs of relenting.[/b]

A shadow fell over the page.  Abby glanced up.  The man was nigh onta her height…thirtyish?  Fortyish?  Hard tah tell, but ‘cept fer tha vicar’s collar he showed tah be livin’ on tha low.  “Howdy,” she shielded ‘er eyes with tha left hand.  “Bound fer Osiris, mister?”

He didn’t immediately reply, but nodded a greeting. Osiris was a central world, wasn’t it? He smiled down on the young woman sitting cross-legged on the ramp of the ship. “What’cha readin’, Miss?” he inquired, glancing down at the book in her lap. “Not too many read actual paper pages anymore.” He took a bit of the jerky he was pressing between calloused fingers, softening it a little before the next bite. It was strong, and more than a stick of it would have been too much for his palette. 

She closed the novel, pressin’ the rolled dog ear cover twixt thumb an’ forefinger tah show ‘im.  “Mei Lin in tha Wild,” Abby answered afore tuckin’ it away.  “I like them paper books.  They’s cheap.  Sometimes a page been tore out, so I git tah guess what mighta happened.”  The clipboard popped open.

“Osiris, is it? Mebbe so, mebbe so.” He offered her the small paper bag with three more jerky sticks inside. “Go on. I’m full up.” He glanced past the girl’s wild mane of curls into the hold of the ship, then back to see the colt revolver at her hip, in oiled leather. “Got room, do yeh?”

Abby nodded.  “Sure’n we do.  Setcha up in a single or a double.  Takin’ off day after tomorrah.”  She give the stranger prices fer both a single room and the bigger double.  “China Doll’s a fine boat…an’ we got us a cook can really git tha job done.  Yah pay now, we can take care ‘o’ ya…but no real cookin’ til we’re in tha air…mostly PB and J ‘less tha cook finds somethin’ special, [i]dohn mah?[/i]”

“I surely do. I think I can scrape together enough to afford a single. An’ mebbe I can help out a little around the ship to help pay mah way? I’m happy to roll mah sleeves up.” He hands over a small coin bag with all his savings. It is nearly the amount Abby has quoted. “You say we take off day after next? Like to have a roof over mah head tonight, if it’s all the same to you… but mebbe I can rustle us up some eats for the evening meal ‘fore I come aboard.” He checks the sky. “...still time afore night falls on us. How many mouths to feed?” 

“No bother with that.  Most of ‘em’s scattered about town.”  She counted out tha coin, her brow furrowin’ as she struck bottom.  “Yer a might shy,” Abby said as she conjured percentages.  Discounts wasn’t somethin’ yah thought of when it come tah passengers, but if she’s bein’ true, what tha man could pay weren’t outta line with deals she done fer cargo.  “I reckon we’re good,” the girl stashed the coin away as the clipboard come open.  “Can I have yer name, mister?”

There was no hesitation in his reply. “I’m Collins. Pleasure’s mine.” The girl fascinated him, frankly. She was all of what – fifteen? Fourteen? And looked like she had barely spent a day planetside in her entire life. The pistol at her hip, the grease stains on the thighs of her pants, the complexion that asked for a touch more sunlight… all of it added up to what Brother Christopher would have called a ‘Bilge Rat.’ Collins wouldn’t use the term aloud, as it ran a 50/50 chance of running him afoul of the girl. 

Fact was, he was just interested in how someone could live their life in the Black. He didn’t like space travel that much, hadn’t experienced it till only a few years ago. “And what can I call you, Miss?” 

“Name’s Abby,” she said on takin’ tah her feet.  “C’mon, I’ll walk yah back.”  The girl led their new passenger up tha ramp.  As she moved, she give ‘im the well worn spiel.  “Welcome aboard tha China Doll, Mister Collins.  It’s perty easy gettin’ along.  Cap’n says stay outta tha cargo bay, the engine room, cockpit, an’ any sleepin’ room ain’t your’n, less a body invites yah.”  The after hatch swung open.  “Them stairs’ll take yah up top.  Galley an’ a nice sittin’ area are up there.  Coffee an’ tea’s always on.  Sometimes Hook…he’s our cook…lays out a tray ‘o’ cookies or such fer latenight snacks.”

The deckhand beckoned Collins down the short staircase aft.  “That’s Medbay.  Doc’s name is Alana,  an’ take it from me.  She knows her [i]la shi.[/i]  Patched me up a short spell ago.  Lav’s right there,” she pointed out a doorway.  “Three commodes, two showers an’ sinks.  No worries about who’s usin’ ‘em, but they’s womenfolk aboard might appreciate yah knockin’ first, [i]dohn mah?[/i]  Got another sittin’ area,” she pointed out the sofa an chairs restin’ underneath her chalk orchid.  “An’ that’s all she wrote!”  

The pair stopped in a space where two short corridors could be seen.  “Yer room’s in tha starboard passage,” Abby pointed, “second door on tha left headin’ aft.   Mine’s last door on tha right,” she offered.  “If yah need somethin’...spare blankets an’ such, don’t be askeert tah knock.  Now make yerself tah home.”   The grey collar caught ‘er eye once more.  Hadn’t interested her afore, but now he's gon’ be flyin’ with ‘em, made sense tah git her bearin’s with Mr. Collins.  “Beg pardon,” she asked.  “You some kinda shepherd?” 

He followed diligently along, noting lefts and rights, trying to take in names… cookies… knock first… He paused at his door, smiling back at the young woman. “[i]Xie Xie[/i], Miss Abby – I ‘preciate the lay of the land.” He tossed his meager kit – really just his pack, and his gun belt, onto the bed, and turned back to her as she asked him about his collar. “Somethin’ like that, yeah.” 

Weren’t her way tah put questions tah them didn’t wish tah be asked, an’ Abby picked that up right quick from the shepherd.  “If yah need somethin’, I’ll be back out front til sundown,” she siad afore turnin’.  “Rest easy, Padre.”   Once back in ‘er chair, she noted Collins’ room an’ what he paid fer tha trip.  ‘Neath his name, she added [i][b]Shepherd.[/b][/i]  After some ‘o’ the folk done flew on China Doll, she conjured Cap’n would like knowin’ a man spreads the Word found  ‘is way aboard.