[Santo - Shipyards and Salvage Yards]

[walk_ins]

[master post]

People come here to do business and get a job done. They're usually looking for something in particular, or have a vague idea of it at the very least.

The acres of parts, and places to put them in, don't have much rhyme or reason to them, as far as organization goes. It means you need to either have a lot of time on your hands for exploring, or to know who to ask to find what you need.

Over in the shipyard section -- it's one big open space, made of poured concrete, where captains can land their ships to take on repairs while their passengers go have fun. The people over in the shipyards generally aren't having fun, and they probably won't take too kindly to visitors nosing around.

Comments

[badinlatin]

The greaser, who upon further scrutiny does actually have a small 'Timothy' printed on his jumpsuit, shoots a surprised glance at the woman.

Not many women mechanics.

Not many women mechanics who then tell their captains to go do something or fetch something for them.

What's more, the captain actually seems to not mind it -- a man who gets his hands dirty.

It takes him a second to start actually pointing out where the components for the converter are hiding.

[gonna_live]

Kaylee starts pulling out parts, scrutinizing them closely, withdrawing her multitool to see if the rust will scrape off or if it's there permanently.

"Yes, yes... yes... no, yes, no, no, no -- " She looks up at Mal. "Three more like these and we can move on."

[badinlatin]

Mal just nods, doing his best to help pry things out of the pile that match the parts Kaylee's already claimed.

(He learned to not question the person who fixes things, when it comes to things he knows she can fix.)

Eyeing the items they've already claimed, however, Mal starts to add up the coin for this little venture in his mind.

Hence the grimace.

[gonna_live]

"That's a hell of a lot of parts that're unusable," Kaylee says casually to Timothy as she hooks up the sledge to the scooter. "Probably want to send somebody to go through those, you get a chance."

This will mean a discount, later, if she has anything to say about it.

[badinlatin]

"Sure thing. Ma'am."

More a term of separation from the situation than of deference. Timothy certainly does not get paid enough to argue with the customers.

Mal's in his own head more than anything, quietly amused. Pretty sure we're the only folks who've asked for Firefly parts in a good long while, meimei.

[gonna_live]

Kaylee leans over once they're back on, and says in Mal's ear, "I look like a ma'am to you?"

She seems a little disconcerted.

[badinlatin]

The reply back as they finally retrieve the three remaining parts they need from this pile:

"If you hit me if I say 'yes', who will pay for the parts?"

He does a level job of not smirking.

[gonna_live]

Kaylee hits him on the arm anyway. "Who'll fix your ship?"

[badinlatin]

"'Nara," Mal offers absently.

[gonna_live]

"Not like me, she won't." Kaylee reaches for a bungee net and starts to attach it to the sledge.

[badinlatin]

"Fair enough. She'd have fun braiding the dead wires, though. Her 'n River'd be there for hours."

[gonna_live]

Kaylee hooks the last bit on the edge, and straightens up, hands on her hips. "And you wouldn't have a ship that'd fly, neither."

[badinlatin]

"Worth it to watch you twitch in the corner about it all, and come back and kick us in the collective pigu. What're we after next?"

[gonna_live]

Kaylee rolls her eyes and fetches out the datapad.

"We're gonna go with the centrifugal compressor system. Try sayin' that three times fast."

She falls in line behind the sledge.

[badinlatin]

Mal doesn't.

(Try having to legitimately say "Sallie Reynolds sells sows only on Saturdays" at market as a child.)

Timothy, however, does attempt.

By Attempt #3, it's become 'shentifigal comprehshin system', and a short small-talk laugh follows.

[gonna_live]

Followed by more business, followed by arranging to borrow the sledge for their (numerous) purchases, followed by the actual purchasing.

"You get to drive," announces Kaylee as she finishes hitching the mule to the sledge.

[badinlatin]

"Oh why xiexie." Mal goes for magnanimous; it's up to Kaylee whether or not he fails at it.

It's a few more minutes before Mal lets out an off-the-cuff "This weren't so bad."

[gonna_live]

"We're lookin' at a week, week and a half of work," Kaylee warns. "And I'll bet you whatever you want that you won't be sayin' the same thing five, six days into it."

[badinlatin]

"Neither will you."

Mal's quiet for a second or two before he manages: "We do have a backlog o' folk wanting to visit our particular where and when, in the Bar."

[gonna_live]

"Yeah?" Kaylee's watching the scenery go by. "We're grounded. Might be a good time for it."

[badinlatin]

"Santo won't know what hit it. Could be a decent distraction.

"...Won't leave you slavin' away while the rest of us go gallavanting off."

[gonna_live]

"Well, you don't got a job to do, and I do." With finality. "We got the parts, and I don't aim to see we're here for weeks on end."

[badinlatin]

"I was tryin' to say you got helpers if you wanted 'em."

With equal parts Was just offering and No reason you have to be working by yourself.

[gonna_live]

Kaylee checks a sharp response.

The thing is -- every time Serenity has issues like this, it's surrounded by a certain level of bad (like somebody getting shot, or impaled), and it's a certain level of bad that really could have been avoided (Kaylee feels) if she'd just been paying a little more attention. Or knew how to work miracles. Or could badger Mal into loosening purse strings more effectively.

They're not lifting off Santo until Kaylee is sure, entirely sure, that every system -- every single one -- is not just at, but above her usual standards.

(She feels guilty.)

"Okay," is all she says.

[badinlatin]

Mal's never really done all that well with badgering.

At least there are no swords involved.

But the response was not something Mal'd expected -- he'd been looking for something in the 'Like hell is someone uneducated touching my engine room' camp. Or the 'You're actually volunteering for duty?' one.

"A bit for your thoughts."