Sprax

For some scientific reason that I couldn't explain, the air on Caliban was getting cooler and cooler. Happy to have found a coat to keep warm, I could be found generally in the morning never to far away from my fireplace. Maybe I could suggest to Krenshar a barrel or an open pit where I could warm my hands in the courtyard, making the place quieter, with me not shouting out to the people outside in order to get their attention? Steal Jane's barrel at Firefly's, maybe? But then Milo would eat me alive. Not good. Or Jane.

I was broke, so I rarely went shopping these days. I was therefore quite content to hang around the Dome, chatting with the residents, particulary Miya and Thoth, Vega and naturally Krenshar. I saw Jai once in a while. She's nice and now has flowing blond hair which is very pretty. But I digress.

One particular slow Saturday night, alone in the Dome, entered a visitor. At first, I wasn't even curious. He was walking around exploring the grounds, like most visitors do. But then as he passed me on, as I was siting at the picnic table in the yard, he called on to me: "So Miss, have you gotten over the termination of Blackburne yet, or are you still moping like a spoiled brat?" Now, talk about good manners from your friendly neighboroud stranger? Merde.

Gut reaction, I swore in French, because swearing in French is probably how I was brought up if only I could remember a bit more of where I came from... I digress again.

"The name is Captain Jonathan Sprax, of the Duvernay division of the Alliance. "

He didn't wear the usual gray micey coloured outfit. He did look particularly clean and shiny. "Under cover cap'tain? Your brown coat seems kinda new though." I said. "Yours isn't, and I see you have the same boots you had the last time we met... Rough times, Miss? or playing the Caliban Hobo? " By then, my blood was boiling. Before I could utter another word, he put his shiny boot on the seat approaching me with a half smile, his eyes showing no emotion at all. "Sorry about Blackburne, Miss, it seemed there wasn't much choice...you know, terrorists, secessionists...no good people, some say thieves and raiders, bootleggers..." "Sir, they were Reavers...they were Reavers...", I stuttered.

He straightenend , scratched his clean shaven face, "Just one advice, Miss Koba, tell your friends that we haven't forgotten them, and even if you are sprawled out on all these moons, we haven't forgotten about you guys."

And on that note, he turned away and TP'd out.

Sprax, Jonathan Sprax.