"Yeah, as it turns out, I chose exactly the wrong moment to take off my helmet," replied Walter, to Juliette, with a lopsided grin.  "Can't see in that damn thing."   The brunette's fingers were cool on his cheek, a welcome touch there after the dull, throbbing pain of Jethro's fist.  He kept one eye on their bounty as she helped him out of his suit--with dangerous outlaws like Jethro, one could never be too sure.  He stayed blessedly unconscious, however.  "Come on, you big oaf," he grumbled at him, anyway, as he struggled to pick up the recumbent man.  Walter was no lightweight, but Jethro easily outweighed him by at least 50 kg or more.  He eventually had to settle for stooping to haul the man up by lifting underneath his arms while Jules got his legs.  And then it was a matter of grunting and groaning, stumbling out of the docking bay and down the companionway and manhandling him one deck above, to the brig, where Walter finally heaved him unceremoniously onto the metal floor.   The man was so heavy that Walter had to stop and catch his breath for a few minutes.<br/><br/>Bent over double, gasping, he noticed Jules' boots.  "What have I...told you...about wearing...your boots...on board the old girl?"  he wheezed.  "The only one who gets to...wear boots on the ship is me."   It was a futile argument, he knew, and one that they'd had a hundred times.  She'd pointed out, again and again, the hypocrisy and the thinly veiled sexism of the proclamation, but he stuck to his guns.  He didn't care.  Really, he just liked seeing her feet.<br/><br/>Catching his second wind, he put a shackle around Jethro's ankle and locked the restraint.   The brig was a small, cramped enclosure; really, all it had room for was the thin cot and a hole in the deck which served as both a toilet and an all-purpose drain.    It wasn't meant to accommodate anyone for long, only long enough to hold them until the ship made port.   Slamming the iron bars home, he turned the key in the lock until it clicked satisfyingly, assuring that their captive would not go anywhere anytime soon.<br/><br/>"Well, that's done," he said, wiping his hands.  "Money in the bank."<br/><br/>He and Juliette met back up with Kenzie in the cockpit.  He glanced at the ship's computer, noting that a course had indeed been laid out for New Cheyenne.  It was the fourth planet in the Centauri solar system, and probably one of the most densely populated.   If he remembered his history right--which he wasn't sure he did--it had been the second planet that the early colonists had settled on.<br/><br/>"Well," he said, putting a hand on Kenzie's shoulder and giving her an impromptu shoulder massage.  "Looks like we have about eight hours to kill.  What did y'all want to do now?"