[color=silver][h1][center]Wakey Wakey Part 2[/center][/h1][/color]
[color=white][center][b]Lunar Veil | Medbay[/b][/center][/color]
[color=silver][center]Summary[/center][/color]
[color=silver][center][i]Kinneas wakes up on the Lunar Veil. This should go over well.[/i][/center][/color]
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OOC: JP between [@MK Blitzen], [@Aalakrys]

“I don’t so much think you’re cargo as you are [i]saved,[/i]” she said thoughtfully. “From Interpol, I mean, not like in the religious sorta way. Unless you’re the religious sort, maybe you found religion when you got hit on the head,  which is fine, Jago - he’s the Captain, he’s not so much religious. I mean, he loses his religion if he stubs his toe on the leg of a table or when things go to hell in a handbasket. Besides, the cabins are much nicer than the cargo bay, and Tim set one up for you right proper. Oh, right!  The ship’s name is  the Lunar Veil. Pretty isn’t it? I didn’t name it.  I’m Serena.” She jerked a thumb towards herself for emphasis. “I didn’t name me either.” 

[I]Saved from Interpol?[/I] That was interesting, though only a matter of time, maybe. Something to think about later. The girl's returned stream of consciousness was useful. He recognized the name and remembered the phoney negotiator. Learning the ship's name told him nothing - maybe a good sign, seeing how their best sniper was a bad shot. "Most of us don't get to choose our name, you're right. Say, Serena, why would you have a cause to save me, a perfect stranger by all rights, from Interpol?"

Serena shrugged her shoulders up to her ears and then back down. “On account of Jago said to. He’s the captain. I know I just said that, but sometimes when people get hit on the head they have trouble trying to remember things. Plus, there’s more of us to remember than there are of you. You want me to go find the doc for you?” 

"Sure, just one more thing." Kinneas played up the card she handed him, not sure it'd work since he'd taken her of no consequence once already. "You said something about a brother when we met before, right? Is he the pilot or doctor?"

“My onii!” Serena said happily, scooting closer with the rolling stool. “He’s not neither. Tim’s the pilot, and Doctor Prichard is the doc. My onii is just my onii. His name’s Vas. You’ll like him, on account of he was the religious sort too. Ish. Kind of. You never gave me your name in return though, but it’s okay. Like I said, sometimes folk have trouble remembering things like that if they get hit on the head. I’m Serena,” she prompted, placing a hand on her chest. “What do you like to be called?” 

If this was happening to someone else, he would have found it amusing. As it was, he managed to keep a straight face without much effort. Figuring the girl knew his name, given her captain had ordered her - and likely the rest of the crew - to "save" him, he decided to go with the lie and feign a moment of thought as a final attempt at prying. "I… know my name is Kinneas, but can't for the life of me recall why Interpol would be after me."

“That’s what they called you on the news feed.” Serena agreed. “Sometimes people don’t like to be called what they were named. Like the doc - her first name is Enid, but she doesn’t like to be called it, and since she’s in charge of all things sharp and stabby, I call her doc. And Tim, his name’s Tim-o-thy, but no one calls him that, just Tim. I think Interpols were after you on account of they said you blew up the mine at Cold Creek.” 

"I… blew up that mine?" Kinneas' head swam with that news, maybe with the help of the new head wound. But he shook his head in what might have looked like denial. "Whoever [i]they[/i]are that's saying that is mistaken."
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