Angel V Quinn, The Meeting.

(So we thought it'd be fun to play the actual meeting out This takes place sometime on the journey to Harvest)

Nar was not having a good day. He'd already done a couple of rush jobs on the Vega to keep it running, painfully aware they were further and further from a spare parts dealer, and now this. He should have told Angel before that Quinn was well, but he'd been dreading the confrontation. Both were stubborn, neither suffered fools and had strong ideas of what they expected from people. He'd be stuck between a rock and a hard place trying to mediate the fallout.

"She's WHAT?" Angel's voice reached fever pitch. "Take me to her NOW. You PROMISED."

"Look I'm sorry okay? Just calm down and then we can- " He tried desperately to reach for the power switch as he talked, and recieved an electric shock for his efforts. He jumped back with a yelp, his hand smarting.

"NOW, Nar." Angel hissed. There was no arguing with her. He'd never seen her fly into such a caustic fit since he'd disconnected her from re-configuring his ship's computer over three years ago.

"Okay, okay. Just let me pick you up without zapping me into next week, right?"

There was a sullen lack of reply, and he gingerly picked up the heavy black oblong, sliding it from the top bunk. Then, somewhat reluctantly he eased out of his room and headed off to knock timidly on the door of Quinn's room. "Yo, Cap'n? Uh... Angel want's a word. Says it's important."

"Damn Right it is." The computer growled in her synthetic voice, under her breath as it were.

Quinn was still sore but was up and back to her normal duties. It didn't really matter how injured she was - nothing would keep her in the sickbay for long periods of time, unless she were unconscious. She had retreated to her room on the eve of Angel's fit, still blissfully unaware of the black box and her caretaker marching toward her door.

Quinn had learned that if she lay just right she could lift weights comfortably. Sitting was another story, but for now she lay on the bench, hands gripping the barbell in preparation of lifting it free. Then came a knock, in response to which the captain grumbled something and directed an accusing stare. She quirked a brow as Nar explained himself, and there was a long pause before she replied. "Not talkin' to a box, Nar," she replied, rolling from the bench to stand straight. "You need somethin'?"

It was as close to an invitation in that anyone ever got, so Nar would probably know to open the door. Assuming he did just that and Angel remained in his arms, she'd snort a small laugh and cross her arms. She knew the computer to be unnervingly intelligent and a little saucy on occasion, but didn't really know the extent of it.

"Y'can at least hear her out." Nar replied, pushing the door open. Anything the Captain could dish out at this stage would be nothing if he walked away with Angel left unheard.

He elbowed the door open, Shuffling inside. "Well she wants t-" Was about as far as he got, before the computer butted in. To Nar's suprise she'd put on her best sickly sweet voice, when addressing Quinn. He wondered how well that would go down.

"I'll cut to the chase, Captain. There is an an abandoned Alliance science facility on the Solace, a moon of Lilac. It is the facility where I was...,created." She seemed reluctant to let this go, but continued smoothly. "It's a ruin now, but there is some things I want recovered. Mostly just scientific information. Much of what is there is of no use to me, and I would gladly share it with you and your crew. It is important I return there, however. I promise that it will be worth your while, especially now as you are going to be so flying your ship so close."

Quinn stared in a dumbfounded sort of way at the little box nestled in Nar's arms. She wasn't expecting to be addressed in such a flowery manner by the computer, and was beginning to think this was some kind of prank... or at least an attempt on Nar's part to go to Solace for his own benefit. Grey eyes went up to scrutinize the mechanic's features, searching for any sign of trickery. Assuming she found nothing there except seriousness, she sighed.

"Ya have me worried, Nar. Either yer not tellin' me you're the one wantin' to go to Solace because it's bad news and you need something else to blame, or yer seriously expectin' me to listen to that pile of junk. Our next employers don't want us stoppin' anywhere ain't necessary, anyway. And we're two days late gettin' to Harvest, so stoppin' there first's out of the question." She flat out refused to address Angel directly. For the moment, at least.

Nar's features were entirely deadpan. He was damned if he did and damned if he didn't, but he knew Quinn and Angel well enough to tell that the Captain was probably going to give him less grief in the long run if this didn't go well.

"Look, Cap'n..." He sighed. "I asked you to hear her out, and you have. Could you at least think on it?" He shrugged his shoulders. "I know it's kind of vague but I am damn curious. Still, it's your call at the end of the day." He paused, then struck upon an idea. "I know you only have my word on this, but I don't think Angel would lie about it, she's been trying to get back here for years. If you -do- decide to go for it, and she is pulling our legs on this one, then have my share of the payment for picking up the package, call it a little insurance." He shrugged his slim shoulders, ignoring the snorting sound from the box in his hands. "Either way cap'n, we're going to need some spares for the Vega soon. I can't keep patching holes forever."

Quinn kept quiet as Nar finished his plea, indeed ending in a sore note. She nodded, concern darkening her brow. "Just shy of hurtin' fer parts, I suppose," the woman agreed, arms swinging free of their crossed position. She drummed her fingers on her belt. "If the place is what yer box says it is, may have worthwhile salvage lyin' around. Though I doubt it's untouched." Quinn paused. She cleared her throat and waved a hand dismissively, easing back to the bench. "I'll think on it."

The captain's interest had been peaked. Luckily for Angel, Quinn often bent the rules their employers gave them, so when the time came and if the place looked friendly enough, they would probably stop. No point in flying over good salvage.