Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, and if I did, what they say is going to happen on the show would *not* happen.

Notes: The song that shows up in here is "Turn Out The Light" by Nelly Furtado. Again, I don't own it, and make no claims on it. I can't even play a radio well…

Again, any feed back is more than welcome. Please…? ::flutters eyelashes::

~~*~~

It was her favorite bar in this sector.

The color schemes were a mix of rust reds, deep blues, and soft grays. The atmosphere was relaxed; beings stood around tall tables, or sat in dim booths, chatting easily. There was a place to dance, and though it was still relatively early a few had already gotten onto the platform. Most importantly to her though, the music that came from the tastefully hidden speakers was a generous mix of modern sounds and ancient songs—mostly R&B stuff from Earth.

A twenty-three year old Rebekka Valentine was sitting at the bar, nursing a ginger-ale. It was her normal drink. The color made most people think she was drinking something stronger, though it was a well known secret that Beka never touched liquor. Too many addicts in her family; too many wasted lives. She had no wish to fall into that trap, so she never drank anything harder than soda-pop.

Though tonight part of her wanted to make an exception. She had just finished a run from Timberline station to the colony on Jo'cose by herself; and she *never* wanted to do it again. Oh, the pay was good enough, but four solar months with no one to talk to, no one to help keep the ship up… even at that pay-scale, it hadn't been worth it.

And now a good chunk of her pay would have to go right back into the Maru. The ship, not in the best of shape before making the haul, was on its last legs. She'd had to push it badly just to make it here in order to pick Tev up from the job she had been working the last six-months. If Tev still wanted to be picked up, that was.

Sighing, Beka shook back her thick, longish, black hair. It had been jet black for almost a year; she had triggered the nono-bots and turned it the moment her father died. It was the only external mark of mourning she had ever made.

She needed to find someone to work on the ship. She had to have it in condition if she was going to get a job. In truth, she really wanted to supe it up a bit—with just a few enhancements she could start using the Maru for salvage work. There was good money in salvage, especially if a person knew enough not to ask too many questions.

There were times she despaired of ever having enough to get even that far. Sometimes, laying in her berth, the darkness so thick she felt like she was inhaling it, cold sapping at her because there was no money to fix the heating unit *again*, listening to dust hiss and tap against the outer hull like the quiet knocking of the dead… sometimes she knew she would never make it. Then morning would come, and she would tell herself that it would be okay. It was still early days, and she was still getting herself on her feet. Eventually she would be financially secure. Eventually.

Right.

The song switched over, a low, heavy beat, overlaid by an acoustic guitar. Earther music. You could tell from the beat, even before the human voice started singing the lyrics.

It's getting so lonely inside this bed

Don't know if I should lick my wounds or say woe is me instead

She'd been on her own for almost a year now. Her father had been all she'd had left to call family. Her brother had taken off years ago, and her 'uncle' had disappeared with so many of the others when she'd declared she wouldn't allow the Maru to be used for drug and weapons running anymore.

And there's an aching inside my head

It's telling me I'm better off alone

Then the jobs had dried up. She was out of the smuggling game-- but the regular employers knew too much of the Eureka Maru's admittedly shady reputation to ever trust her with a hire.

But after midnight morning will come
And the day will see if you will get some

She needed to get the ship fixed. Needed to find work. Needed to know if Tev was still on her hire. 

They say that girl ya know she acts too tough tough tough
Well it's till' I turn off the light, turn off the light

--Needed to know why the hell that night-sider across the room was starring at her.

They say that girl you know she acts so rough rough rough
Well it's till' I turn off the light, turn off the light

Ah, bloody hell. He was coming over. 

She turned her back to him, deliberate insult, focusing on her drink, sending out all the discouragement she could manage.

And I say follow me follow me follow me down down down down
till' you see all my dreams
Not everything in this magical world is quite what it seems

He came up to the bar next to her and perched sideways, watching her. 

"Hello, there," he said. He grinned, displaying sharpish, brownish teeth.

I looked above the other day
Cuz I think I'm good and ready for a change

"Oh, please," she muttered, draining the rest of her soda. "Look, I'm not interested. Ever. Okay?"

I live my life by the moon
If it's high play it low, if it's harvest go slow and if it's full, then go…

His muzzle pulled back in a gesture that could have been either a smile or a snarl—she couldn't tell which. "Don't be so quick to judge, Miss Valentine." 

They say that girl ya know she acts too tough tough tough
Well it's till' I turn off the light, turn off the light

She controlled the involuntary jerk, and hoped she kept the surprise off of her face. "Who the fuck are you, and how do you know my name?" She hissed, hand moving to the weapon strapped to her hip, movement hidden under the bar.

They say that girl you know she acts so rough rough rough
Well it's till' I turn off the light, turn off the light

He gave her a smile, pinprick black eyes catching a brief shimmer off of the red neon above the bar. "Hold on there, Honey. I have a proposition for you."

And I say follow me follow me follow me down down down down

She pulled the gun, reaching across her own body to wedge the muzzle into his side. Had the satisfaction of seeing his startled wince.

Not everything in this magical world is quite what it seems

"First thing. It's *Captain* Valentine. Got it?" As the cretan hastily nodded, she swallowed. It was the first time she had ever claimed the title-- her father had always been Captain Valentine. "Second thing, I don't like you. I don't like night-siders generally, don't like you specifically. I have a headache, I'm very tired, and I would love nothing more than to kill something right now. So, unless you're volunteering for target practice, I suggest you either answer my questions or get the hell outa my air space."

I'm searching for things that I just cannot see…

He hesitated, shifting uncomfortably away from the pressure in his side. She just pushed the gun in further.

"All right!" he hissed, eyes dancing around the crowd before coming back to her. When he spoke, his voice was so low she had to strain to hear it. "My name's Vixvacule. I represent a small group of… business men who have a come across an…unusual opportunity." 

I pretend to be cool with me, want to believe
That I can do it on my own without my heart on my sleeve

She sat up, re-holstering her gun. She knew this game. Knew it too god-damned well. Had grown up playing it.

"Look, Vixvacule, I don't 'run' anymore. The Maru got out of that game when my father died. So, thanks for the offer, but I'm really not interested."

The Night-sider just waited her out, a knowing smirk on his face, his black nose almost twitching.

"Ah, but you will be," he reached – slowly, as he saw her hand move toward her gun—for his bag, and pulled out a flexy. "You can't afford not to be."

He tossed it onto the bar in front of her. It sat there like a gauntlet.

I'm running, I'm running, catch up with me life…

"And this is supposed to interest me?"

The Rat snorted. "Just look it over 'Captain'. I promise you, you'll be… impressed."

They say that girl ya know she acts too tough tough tough
Well it's till' I turn off the light, turn off the light
They say that girl you know she acts so rough rough rough
Well it's till' I turn off the light, turn off the light

Curiosity warred common sense. Oh well, dad had always said she had enough of the former to fill up four cats. She reached for the flexy. Read it carefully, with growing amazement.

And I say follow me follow me follow me down down down down
till' you see all my dreams
Not everything in this magical world is quite what it seems

"Do you know what this is?" Beka gazed at the flexy with hungry eyes.

The night-sider smiled, a slow, greasy expression. "If I didn't, do you think I'd be setting here?"

Beka fingered the plans again, and eyed Vixvacule, wondering just how much his 'employers' had told him. How much he understood about these plans. From the smug, careless way he handled the flexy, she guessed not much.

"So what do you need me for?"

He chuckled, greed glittering in is rodent eyes. "I…*we* need you to get there. It's not *exactly* in a friendly neighborhood. We need a ship that can handle the load. A pilot who won't give out after a couple dozen slips. Someone who knows how to go in quiet and get out fast-- as well as an *associate* with connections, one who knows how to keep her mouth shut. Grapevine says you fit the bill, sweetheart."

She glared at him. His arrogant attitude told her that he also knew she was desperate enough to do it, no questions asked.

And sadly enough, he was right.

She smiled sweetly at the rodent. "For the right price, I can fit almost any bill."

He grinned at that, lips twitching. "So we do have something in common after all, Captain." He signaled to the bar-girl. When she came over he said, "Put the lady's bill on Mr. Keegan's tab." He turned to Beka. "Have another drink. We have a contract to discuss."

~~*~~