Olympia was not what anyone would call a vacation destination, but the climate would argue otherwise, hence why Jet had both their monoships on the deck. It was just too nice outside to stay in, especially after being cooped up in the Bebop for two weeks. He had sent Spike out for a hundred thousand head, which was a nice price, but he accounted for damages as far as his partner was concerned. "Ends justify the means, my ass," he grumbled.

The Swordfish was giving him the most problems, mostly because he didn't have a reacher, but he was working and building a whole new tool out of some scraps just to get a feel for the problem was. The sooner this thing got off the ground, the better.

Ein watched from afar, which Jet appreciated. As much as he was reluctant to take in a dog, it was nice to have another living thing listen to his voice of reason. Out of nowhere the corgi started barking toward the ship starboard of them. Jet was also distracted by the loud music coming from the same ship. He looked over and saw Ein run over, and Jet followed realizing it was because of another dog. The last thing he needed was a dogfight. "Hey, you mutt, get back here!"

Ein caught sight of the Great Dane and wouldn't slow down, but the larger dog didn't move from his laying position next to a Ducati. For that, Jet was grateful as he boarded the main deck. "Knock it off, Ein." The large dog on the other hand, got up and growled at Jet. "Easy, boy."

"Junior, down!" came a voice. It was a woman, wearing a mechanic's suit, sleeves tied around her waist, only leaving her in a black crop top. The Dane sat, but the hair on his back was still standing.

Jet didn't falter, "Sorry about that, you'd think he never seen another canine before."

She only shrugged, "No worries." Then they parted.

The music didn't quiet down. For the next hour they both could hear each other cursing over their respective engines on top of the old Earth rock tunes that were blasting from his neighbor. Jet had finished with his Hammerhead but couldn't figure out what to do about the hot pink racer.

Spike had yet to return from his quick collar, which was holding him up.

Jet was snapped out of his frustrations when he heard a crash from the neighboring vessel, followed by a slew of curses in both English and something else he didn't recognize. That's when he got an idea.

He didn't like to ask for favors, especially when he didn't know how he could pay them back, but he had to try. She looked small enough to fit into the hull. He huffed and made his way to Orleans.

/ / /

Annali was getting pissed off with her bike more than she would later admit. The parts place she had called before landing on Olympia promised her that her parts would be in, only to find out that they were for Harley's. Having previously paid them off, she took them with a few choice creole curses and figured she could retrofit them to work. While she had decent mechanical expertise she wasn't skilled in the art of improvising. Never had to in the military, they had their shit together there.

She never worked with Harley parts before which meant frustrations were high. She spent a good portion of the day cursing, throwing things, and wishing she had bought a Harley instead. The more pissed she got the louder the music got. Good ole' White Stripes. Screw anyone else on the docks that didn't like it.

She went inside for a moment and made herself a drink of cheap whiskey. That always helped her calm down.

Annali took the bottle and glass out onto the deck only to be greeted by Junior growling at the same guy with a metal arm from earlier. "Junior!" she scolded. The dog then turned and went inside. She turned her attention to the man standing in front of her, crossing her arms. "Can I help you?"

The man looked down at her bike, "You work on antiques?"

"It wasn't my intention. I'm just trying to stay mobile."

"You got the wrong parts."

"No shit. I'm trying to retrofit."

"And how is that going?"

Annali eyed him suspiciously, "So what do you want?"

Jet kept his cool, "Who said I want anything?"

Annali walked up to him and sat down by her bike, "The only time a man shows up on my ship is if they are a bounty head or a guy trying to 'help' a damsel-in-distress. You haven't been on my radar so you're probably here to compensate."

Jet was miffed at the accusation, "You don't even know me."

"What's to know? I'm not going to be here long and neither are you, so what's the point about worrying?"

"Well aren't you the cynic. But truth be told, I was hoping we could do a trade."

Annali just wanted him off her ship, "I would think you could tell I'm not a hooker."

"Not even remotely what I meant. I need an extra set of hands on one of my ships."

She relaxed and took a drink, "You should have started off by saying that, now I feel like an asshole."

/ / /

The first things he really noticed about her was her tattoo across her shoulder under the razor-back straps of her top. It was simple, it was like a military branding they only did and issued to certain ranks. It was a lion outstretched for the kill with numbers and letters under the claws. Jet made small talk on the walk over to Bebop, "So where did you serve?"

"Did a quick tour on Titan, but mostly scouting wherever they sent my company."

"A ranger, go figure."

"So?"

"I used to be ISSP. Got a lot of recruits when you all got done serving, but never had a ranger when I was there. You people just aren't cut out for desk work, huh?"

"Staying in one place just isn't my style, not after everything. That kind of training can screw with your head," she joked and she jumped on deck, making her way to the pink racer. "So what's the story on this thing?"

Jet sighed, "What isn't? Engine stalled just outside Jupiter two weeks ago. It's something deep in the engine hull, but-"

"You don't have a reacher," she finished, eyeing the ship more closely. "Yeah, I don't either, and that thing is an expensive. Then again it would cost more time to take this thing apart."

"Exactly."

He watched her walk around the front hull.

"Where's the hatch at?" she asked.

Jet opened it up and she took a look inside. "That's a tight squeeze, even for me."

"Think you can fit?"

"Yeah, but let's first discuss terms on this trade. I go in there, you retrofit those Harley parts."

"Done," he agreed.

She untied the sleeves and zipped up the suit, pulling out a small penlight from her pocket, "Alright, give me a boost up."

/ / /

It was early evening when Spike returned to the Bebop, reacher in hand, and a couple thousand woolongs in his pocket. A decent start, but it took a hit on his ego. He saw that the Swordfish was back in the open hangar, which meant that either Jet gave up or got it fixed. He was hoping for the first or else he just spent a whole lot of cash for nothing but a spare tool. On deck, Jet wasn't alone. There was a small motorcycle, a large dog, and a skinny kid with long hair and a big ass tattoo on their back, but his partner was laughing. Both were sitting on lawn chairs with a bottle between them. "Well, well, Jet made a friend."

He ambled on deck but stopped when heard their visitor's voice. "So there we were, bored and waiting…"

Spike knew that voice; it was the same one that stole a couple bounties from him earlier in the morning. "You have got to be kidding," he grumbled.

She continued to babble as he got closer, "It was three days in some jungle valley before we heard anything so this guy in my company shows us how to weave with the tall grass so we can make a better shelter than what we had. Next thing you know we are making grass clothes and dressing up in drag to entertain ourselves."

Jet let out a laugh so loud and boisterous, which was strange for Spike. He had never heard him laugh like that ever.

Spike sauntered up behind them, "Having a party?"

Jet turned, sunglasses on with a cigarette hanging from his mouth, "Hey, you're finally back. Good news your ship is ready to go."

Spike sighed, "So I bought an expensive ass tool for nothing."

"Knowing you, we'll need it later anyway."

The person in question turned to face him, smile quickly fading into a scowl and pointing a thumb at Spike, "This guy's your partner?"

Jet nodded. "Yeah, and?"

Annali stood up and grabbed her nearly empty bottle of whiskey, "Well, this has been sufficiently awkward." She made her way off the deck, walking her beside her bike, and Junior followed. "Thanks for the help on those parts, Jet," she said as she waved back. "Later, cowboys."

Jet smiled then looked up at his partner, who still looked pissed. "What got your panties in a twist, she helped fix your ship."

"Remember those bounty heads you sent for me this morning?"

"Yeah, what about them?" Jet put the two and two together. "Oh, she's the one who beat ya to it."

"More like she cheated," he bit back. "Anyway what was up with the engine?"

Jet tossed his partner the culprit. Spike caught it revealing a small bullet. "You're kidding me."

Jet shrugged, folding up the chair, "It was lodged in the hull. Alone it wouldn't have meant anything, but with the right angle on a turn it pattered around your mainframe's circuit board, which is why it was cutting out."

"And you had her crawl up into the engine."

"Wasting time waiting on you meant wasting time on catching the bigger fish. She was having issues retrofitting parts for her bike so we traded. I'd say it was a fair trade."

"Didn't it occur to you that she could be competition?" Spike asked incredulously.

"Didn't know and didn't care. Now looking back, she's ex-military so no wonder she kicked your ass."