(no subject)

[walk_ins]

[OOC: From here.]

"We are members of the Tet Consortium," the man at the center of the table says coolly. "Also known as the Tet of the Fan-Gon. You may call me Finnegan. This young man is Karl, and the lady is Tamara."

"We asked you here to ask how you know about gunslingers, Doctor Tam. It seems you have brought your answer with you."

Comments

[simon_doctor]

"...How did you know I knew anything about gunslingers?"

[walk_ins]

"Your father has been searching for them. On the Cortex. From his home. Unencrypted," says Tamara. Very, very coolly.

[simon_doctor]

"...my father?"

Won't tell, River had said.

[walk_ins]

"He seems to mean well," Finnegan says serenely.

"Rutting gorram idiot," Karl opines.

"Thank you, Karl. Why would your father know about gunslingers, Doctor Tam?"

[righthandwoman.livejournal.com]

Zoe glances across at Simon, and there's a brief flicker of worry in her eyes at his reaction to the mention of his father. It's gone quickly as she turns to face the Tet memners again, impassive, waiting for Simon's answer.

[simon_doctor]

He starts to answer ... and stops, faced with the impossibility of explaining Milliways.

"The same way I do," he says finally. And adds weakly: "It's a little complicated."

[walk_ins]

"Is there a magic door involved?" Finnegan asks, surmise in his voice.

[simon_doctor]

"...Not a specific door, no." His gaze sharpens. "A, a place, that's ... accessible from anywhere. In a limited and sometimes unpredictable fashion."

[badinlatin]

"I might maybe have a question for you. Your note to the doc gave mention of a payment for bringing him here?" Start off with the easy stuff.

[walk_ins]

Finnegan nods to the captain. "Or a job, for value. Our movements are heavily monitored; we can get around, but not easily to any specific place we want to go to. It can make communications a mite difficult."

"How would you feel about transporting some data from here to Caniff for a very fair fee?"

[swinging-cod.livejournal.com]

*Jayne's eyes narrow considerably.*

And who might be lookin' for that information that we would want to avoid?

[walk_ins]

"If the Alliance knew it existed, I'm sure they'd salivate for it," says Tamara. "But they don't. They barely know we exist."

"And as long as we don't send a second member of our group to Caniff to take this information, it'll stay that way. It's a fairly safe job," Finnegan says. "As safe as anything can be in these worlds. We don't dare send it through the Cortex, even encrypted, but it shouldn't attract you any attention."

[badinlatin]

Mal shoots a glance at Jayne which, if Jayne was paying attention to him, might have translated to Well, we did take a job from Niska, but he faces Finnegan again without further reflection.

"What're you storin' the info in?" Mal avoids asking what it is.

[walk_ins]

Tamara takes from a pocket a ring much like the one on Finnegan's finger. "There's a chip under the rose. Caniff has a maildrop, much like the one you use, where it can be dropped, to be left for Mr. Jaffords to pick up."

[badinlatin]

Mal plucks the ring from Tamara's hand. "Mr. Jaffords?" Mal mutters to himself examining the ring. "Huh."

[swinging-cod.livejournal.com]

*Jayne's busy looking Tamara up and down, a nasty smile on his face.

Without looking away from her, he queries distractedly,*

How much?

[lastgunslinger]

"Fan-gon," says Roland idly. "And not the Tet Corporation, but the Tet Consortium. You call yourselves exiles. Why?"

[walk_ins]

Finnegan looks at the gunslinger a long time. "I think before we start answering your questions, sir, there are certain things that should be made sure of." He takes a paper envelope from his jacket pocket, slitting it open with a thumbnail.

"You're truly Roland Deschain?"

[lastgunslinger]

His expression never changes. "What proof would you have, sai?"

[walk_ins]

"Are you truly Roland Deschain?" he repeats. "Roland of the Eld? Son of Steven?" He makes reference to the sheet in front of him.

[lastgunslinger]

"Son of Gabrielle Verriss, she of the Waters; grandson of Alaric, and Henry the Tall. Thirtieth on the side line of descent from Arthur Eld."

He's standing behind Susannah still, one hand resting on her shoulder, never looking away from Finnegan.

"Trained by Cortland Andrus, and youngest gunslinger of Gilead to pass by rite of trial."

A brief pause -- long enough for Finnegan to look up at him.

"And I wonder, sai, truly -- if you are who you say you are, then why do you look at your crib-notes to ensure you've got your details straight?" Slightly dry. "If you've something to ask, ask it. I'd not stand here all day and night -- and neither would the Serenity-folken, say true."

His eyes flash; one corner of his mouth turns up slightly.

[badinlatin]

Because Mal doesn't multitask and listen to everyone's conversations at once, oh no, he listens to Roland's pronunciation of his lineage, and almost sees Roland getting...taller. Kind of. Mal shakes it off.

[swinging-cod.livejournal.com]

*At this litany, Jayne snorts and scowls, shifting uncomfortably.

Gorram gunslingers.*

[walk_ins]

Finnegan looks at his notes again. "I don't suppose I need to ask you why Alaric went to Garlan, under the circumstances," he says. For the first time, his composure seems shaken.

"These questions are our standard--there's a language here I don't speak. I will have to sound it out."

He reads, haltingly. "Ha heet Rol-uh, fa heet gun, fa heet hak, fa-hud gun?"

[lastgunslinger]

His accent is terrible.

Roland knows what he says anyhow.

In the High Speech: "Way of the Gun, khef and ka, watch and warrant; white over red."

His chin lifts, a little. It's unconscious.