~32a~
Year 2510 - One year before the "Battle of Serenity Valley" and seven years before the present...
Crouching low in his close-cropped hair, long brown coat and heavy black boots, Lieutenant Raymond Kan-chiang could smell the smoking and seeping devastation and death. His shoulder-strapped weapon ready in the smog-shrouded sunrise, the thirty-year-old policeman-turned-soldier rose above the crumbling wall and dashed from broken pile to broken pile.
He breathed evenly as the harsh reality weighed heavily upon him. As far as he knew, he was the last survivor of his squad, perhaps the last of his platoon. From his hilltop position, he peeked over the smashed section of another wall to the quiet hillside below. And his heart sank in utter emptiness and profound loss.
The colorful rows of sun-grown green and clay-roofed red that he had patrolled and protected and enjoyed as a local deputy sheriff no longer existed. Sadly, only his memory of its former beauty and grandeur remained. And now, in its place, stood the bleak ruins of whispering gray and black.
He paused in the light breeze. Yet the destruction seemed to whisper -- "Help me" -- from the distant wind.
"Please... help me..."
Suddenly, blinking his slightly-stinging slender eyes, Kan-chiang realized he actually heard the call. Wait a sec!
"Help me..." the voice whimpered.
With the shards of plaster and concrete and clay cracking and crunching beneath his leaping boots, Kan-chiang rushed from the building remains and down the tattered hillside. Strewn in unnatural backward or twisted positions, the bodies of both friendly and enemy soldiers lay scattered to his left and to his right.
"Help..." the voice seemed to weaken.
He blinked again. As he reached the leveling foot of the hill, his dark narrow eyes watered amidst the intensifying sting of the smell and smolder. He couldn't risk calling out. Not yet. He just needed one more call, maybe two, to locate the owner of that desperate voice. Come on. Just one more call!
"Please... help..."
That was all he needed.
~~~
The gunslinger stepped out of the shadows at last, and moved aggresively toward the hobbled shopkeeper. Then he stopped as he saw something over Ethan's shoulder and a look of disgust played across his face. He backed off toward the ramp controls, shaking his head.
Ethan glanced over his own shoulder to see some kind of commotion with several Alliance officers in the distance before he was startled by the rising of the platform beneath him. He turned back to the large man who was fuming out loud, "-ruttin' lost me two blazin' bounties-", and realized that the ship was closing up.
He had only a second to consider which way to move. He could retreat and leave this violent sumbitch and his ship for good, or he could step forward and close himself in here. The man holstered his pistol and moved back into the Firefly and out of view. Ethan looked back at the safety of the dock and made his decision.
He limped across the fast-rising ramp and over to the nearly closed cargo bay doors. He looked into the lion's den and saw the large man standing with fists balled at his side. He somehow looked more dangerous than when he had been aiming a gun between Ethan's eyes.
"Maybe now's a jumpin' opp'tunity fer' me t'take it out on a nosy local... such as yerself... no charge!"
Get the hell out of here! Ethan's mind commanded him in panic. But his ruttin' legs wouldn't obey. Instead he found himself moving directly toward the stiffened fighter doing his best to meet the man's hard glare. He stopped less than two feet from him and stood tough while his insides did somersaults. He needed a calming drag from his cigar, but, alas, it had fallen from his mouth when he had made his excited initial approach to the Firefly.
Without the help of his tobacco, he spoke in what he hoped was a steady voice. "So you've lost yer' bounties. I can imagine that'd irk a man somethin' fierce. But now you've gotta decide what'll make this situation better. Beating the living hell from a helpless ol' cripple, or getting free range of his shop, where yer' sure t'find plenty of valuables.
"Thing is, I want on your ship. I'll do most anything to get on your ship. So if you decide a beatings the call of the day, I welcome it. Get it done and get it out of your system... but, by God, I will not walk away from this Firefly."
~~~
Caught in fascination, Captain Jayman of the Firefly-class Rose raised the eyebrow above his emerald optical implant. Not only did the blue-eyed stranger pick himself up pretty quick, but he kept his wits enough to hobble down the rising ramp without stumbling. And on top of that, he found courage enough to approach the captain to an uncomfortably close proximity.
Ruttin' local! Jayman thought. In fact, as the stranger spoke, the captain could almost smell his dusty breath.
"Get it done and get it out of your system..."
Run-tse duh FWO-tzoo! (Merciful buddha!) Wha' manner o' breath is 'at?
"... but, by God, I will not walk away from this Firefly."
Jayman grinned silently. Ah, so ya won' walk away, eh?
Yeah, the captain managed to clean up some of the mess. He recharged his bio-mechanical eye. He convinced Miriam to leave this dirtball moon. But so what? He also lost two prime bounties to the ruttin' feds. Lost! At least a grand each! Maybe ten grand each! If only those stupid egg-suckin' criminals didn't let themselves get caught so gorram soon! What kind of dumbass murderers were they?
Gos se.
And now he had yet another dumbass standing in front of him. Still standing there.
BUN tyen-shung duh ee-DWAY-RO. (Stupid, innate pile of meat.)
Jayman grinned once more, "Suit yerself, fella."
As he began to swing his right arm back for a roundhouse closed fist, Miriam dashed in and grabbed it. "Uncle Jake! Stop!"
"Shah muh? (What?)" the captain snarled. "Whatcha doin'?"
Letting go, the teenaged girl quickly slipped in front of her pseudo-uncle to protect the stranger. "You may be the last thing I have left for a family, but I'm not letting you beat up this poor guy!"
~32b~
"Suit yerself fella'."
Ethan braced for the blow. He realized that this was the price you payed when you gave ultimatums. Of course the man wasn't going to back down just because he stood up to him. Now it seemed he would take the welcomed beating and be thrown off the ship anyhow.
No. He persisted even as he was a mere second from the pain. I'll take the beating, but still I won't leave. This man has an iron will, but just for today, my will is stronger. I won't leave.
And so he stood, eyes closed and face clenched in anticipation of the coming fist. Only the fist didn't come.
Shah Muh? He thought it as his attacker said it.
He opened his eyes to see that the man's arm was being stayed, and the young girl was his savior.
"You may be the last thing I have left for a family, but I'm not letting you beat up this poor guy!" She declared as she stepped between the two.
At any other time her pity might have stung a little. But for the moment, Ethan had decided to abandon pride and dignity. The girl had given him another chance. Maybe he could still talk his way out of this.
"She's right, sir. This is the last thing you want to do. Think about it." His bravery was wavering and his voice betrayed it. "I can do so much to help. All I ask for is passage on this ship."
Suddenly, an idea came to him. "I-I can work. I know enough about engines to be able to work as mechanic. Hell, I can pilot if you'll trust me. I'll earn my keep, I just want passage is all."
~32c~
The images of the dead flashed in ever hastening succession before Rubick's eyes as he felt his head spinning. A harsh voice cut through the storm and he felt it lash out at him like a whip.
"Time to wake up! Nappy time's over!"
Finally his head snapped back into place and he slowly opened his eyes, wondering if Williams had kept him or thrown him back. He didn't have to wonder long as the face of a very angry fed glared down at him like a hoe-tze duh pee-goo (monkey's butt) on a jien hwo (cheap floozy). He took a moment to laugh internally at that particular image and put on his best, or worst, smile.
"Lao pung yo, nee can chi lai hun yo jing shen. (You're looking wonderful, old friend.) Ching zai-lai ee-bay Ng-Ka-Pei? (Can I have one more glass of Ng-Ka-Pei, please?)"
~32d~
"Time to go, wake up!"
With a start, the doc woke up, only just managing to keep his feet as he was roughly jerked upright by a big black fed. Still in his cuffs, he noted a few changes since he'd drifted off. A ship, roughly the same size as the firefly that had been his goal was waiting, its open doors, guarded by armed feds, revealing a cavernous interior, with what looked to be cells along one wall.
As he was looking at the ship, which he recognised from the cops shows on the cortex as an ASREV, a rumbling sound announced the approach of a four-wheeler. As they came into view, surrounded by very tense-looking guards, the Doc caught a glimpse of the contents of the trailer - a large, muscular man dressed in black - Rubick.
The Doc smiled, the reason for the feds attitude becoming apparent. Maybe this wasn't such a disaster after all.
The four-wheeler apprached the ship, and the doc caught the eye of the driver - an asian-looking fed. His face filled with anger and hatred, and he hopped off his vehicle. Walking over to Rubick's bound figure, he nodded to his partner, who, just as angry, took off one of his gloves, and started slapping him around the face
"Time to wake up! Nappy time's over!" The fed's rage was very evident in his voice. Might be an idea to avoid antagonising those two, the Doc thought, could get nasty...
Rubick stirred, and looking at the fed above him, said something that almost made the doc laugh out loud.
After telling the angry fed how wonderful he was looking, Rubick then proceded to ask for a drink! Either he'd been hit on the head harder than necessary, or he was playing a dangerous game indeed!
~~~
Rubick waited to see the fed's reaction, and was mildly disappointed when the man reigned himself in enough to merely spit his anger into Rubick's face. He never dropped his smile as he reached up slowly and wiped the spit off with his bound hands.
"I guess not. So, when do we leave? I do hope the in-flight movie isn't as dreadful as the last one I saw. That piece you all have on the Alliance's founding is the dullest gos se in the history of huh choo-shung huh tza-jiao duh tzang-huo (filthy fornicators of livestock)."
The fed smiled a grin that nearly matched Rubick's for ferocity and yanked him into a file of guards, almost pulling his arm out of it's socket in the process. Rubick, however, still refused to let him see anything but the devilish grin and continued on with the single-sided conversation as the group headed towards the ASREV.
"Well, now we're getting somewhere. Let's get this sideshow in the sky. Lead the way, my good, chiang-bao hoe-tze duh (monkey raping) friend. And, since we've nothing, you can give us a show with your animal friends. Nee gao-soo na niou, ta yo shwong mei-moo? (Why don't you tell the cow about its beautiful eyes?)"
Finally, the man stopped and turned, staring at Rubick's face. "Listen, you ruttin' piece a gos se, you shut the guay up now, or we can shoot you right rutting here!"
The guard spit at him again and turned back to the ASREV. A second guard smirked in approval and stared at Rubick as he cleared his face. Then the spitter added, "The hwoon-dahn's (bastard's) kwong chee-duh (nuts)!"
~33a~
~Year 2510~
"Please... help..."
With the cold littered ground crunching beneath his boots, the lone Independent lieutenant dashed to an isolated pile of shattered bodies, and pulled aside the first body, then the second, then the third, until... At the bottom, the shivering form of a young soldier lay helpless and half-conscious, his slender Asian eyes squinting red in the stinging air, and his gray uniform stained maroon on the blood-drenched earth. Gray! An Alliance soldier!
Reflexively, Lieutenant Kan-chiang reached for his knife and kneeled over the uniform, ready to kill the faceless enemy, but...
With blinking watering eyes, the youngster softly began to cry to an unseen sight. "I-I'm sorry, Arria... s-so sorry..."
Kan-chiang paused in the hollow breeze. The smog-layered sky seemed to glow golden above the rising sun. Wispy white cloud strands seemed to hang like frozen feathers in the sky. This so-called enemy was no faceless monster. On the contrary, the Asian looked to be in his mid-twenties, in utter desolation and despair, and in no condition to fight back or even care. What's the point in killing him, here and now, just one more body in a war of countless thousands?
The lieutenant stood up and straightened. Then with a firm deep voice, he barked, "Soldier! Are you hurt?"
Shocked into silence, the youngster blinked and glanced upward in confusion.
The lieutenant repeated, "Soldier! I asked you, 'Are you hurt?' "
Another whistling breeze.
"I-I d-dunno, s-sir..." The squinting soldier stammered and stumbled in a peculiar post-Australian accent, "I think... I think me arm... m-me eyes..."
"Soldier, my name is Ray Kan-chiang. Can you tell me your name?"
"Y-yeah... yessir..." He hesitated as if struggling with the memory. "M-me name's Jacob... J-Jacob Mandara."
~~~
"I-I can work. I know enough about engines to be able to work as mechanic. Hell, I can pilot if you'll trust me. I'll earn my keep, I just want passage is all."
Lao tyen yeh (Jesus), Jayman thought as his mismatched eyes focussed on the blue-eyed stranger stuttering behind Miriam. Not anoth'r mass o' contradictin' cow dung!
Almost a couple hours ago, the captain had endured the hot air of contradictions that was called Zacharias Rubick. To Rubick, the size of the paycheck made little difference, yet he wanted to be paid something. How much was "something" if it made little difference? And to Rubick, Jayman would be an idiot to trust him with his life, yet if he believed that, then he would be an idiot to trust Jayman with his own life. So why even discuss a business arrangement at all? For a paycheck that made little difference?
Then, out of nowhere, here limped in this hairy nosy stranger who owned some dubious store, offering his just-as-mysterious help. Help with weapons? Help with spare parts? Help getting a mighty ass-whupping? But why? Then, again out of nowhere, the storeowner wanted to work! Even pilot! Ha! Yeah, right! In fact, he wanted passage off this moon, away from his so-called "store with supplies"!
I seem t' be attractin' all mann'r o' contradictin' locals t'day.
And the captain was getting weary of it.
As the descending yellow-orange sunlight outside began to turn more orange than yellow, he relaxed into a less-aggressive but still-imposing stance. "Well, fella, why di'n't ya say so in th' firs' place?"
Likewise, Miriam let her guard down, brightening with her own sweet smile.
The captain continued, "C'mon, stranger, might as well show ya t' yer room..." And spinning towards the rear entrance of the cargo bay, he reluctantly but finally revealed himself, "Me name's Jayman. And I'm an hones' t' badness bounty hunter."
Stunned, the stranger replied weakly, "M-my name's Ethan..."
As if the storeowner or his voice weren't there, the bouncy teenaged girl joined her pseudo-uncle on the way to the entrance. "Uncle Jake! I'm so proud of you! Doesn't it feel better than punching that poor guy?"
The captain smirked darkly at her, then stopped--
"Oh yeah, Miriam. I jus' r'member'd. I gotta lay out th' groun' rules fer our new guest. G'ahead an' round up a prop'r room fer him. We'll catch ya up, 'kay?"
"Sure!" the girl smiled and dashed through the entrance.
Hesitantly approaching the captain, Ethan could here the suspicion in his own voice. "Lay out the ground rules?"
Jayman turned. "Yeah, that's right."
And as quickly as the weary thirty-two-year-old ex-soldier could muster, Jayman swung his right arm back and slammed a roundhouse closed fist -- Smack! -- into the stranger's bearded jaw. As the shocked storeowner toppled back on his dusty ass, dazed but still conscious, the captain chuckled. "Oh, 'scuse me, did I misspeak? I meant t' say 'lay him out on the ground' rules..."
Nope, Miriam. A blazin' punch feels def'nitely bett'r.
"...An' noone tells me wha' t' do."
Casting his emerald gaze at the fallen stranger, Captain Jayman blinked then quickly strode through the rear entrance.
~~~
As his blue eyes monitored the sparsely-filled spaceport, and his loyal purple-armored officers led the chained criminal couple -- both Rubick the ruttin' oversized gorilla and Lun-kuai the scrawny doctor greencoat -- onto the ASREV cargo ramp, Squad Leader Sgt. Vanderson heard a unique roar just a few hundred feet away.
RRR-SHREEESH!
It was the unique roar of a Firefly transport, lifting off and ascending gracefully across the sinking orange sun into the clear Santa Maria sky. For a moment, the old beat-up Aught-Three bumblebee held his gaze as it streaked in the direction of the large brightening disc -- planet Columbia. And for another moment, he was caught in wonder. Well-well, those gorram trash heaps are still flyin'.
Beep! Beep!
But just as suddenly, the leader snapped back to the current reality. As the criminals were led into the cargo hold, the first all-terrain four-wheeler honked its arrival at the ramp. Meanwhile, in the distance to his left, the second four-wheeler rumbled into the spaceport with its trailer of dead comrades. The hard reality of two comrades lost. The family-man Cobbler and the young-rookie Rodriguez. At least their deaths were quick.
If Vanderson could have his way, Rubick and Lun-kuai would suffer an extremely slow demise. I'd love to break and burn and bury their murderous asses... hair by hair... inch by inch... foot by foot... six feet under.
Instead, in the next hour or so, he'd land on Columbia and witness his two precious prisoners walk Christobal's infamous "trail of guilt." The squad leader chuckled. Perhaps I'll get some small measure of entertainment out of them after all.
~33b~
The feds dragged the Doc and Rubick up the ramp into the cargo bay of the ASREV. As he stumbled along, cuffs restricting his movement, the Doc ran through scenarios in his head, treating it as an exercise in logic similar to those involved in medicine - 'he's ill, what are the options?' became 'we're prisoners, what do we do?'
Ok, go through the options: First - escape now. It had to be considered, but couldn't possibly work. It would merely be suicide by fed, and I don't want to die quite yet, still got things to do...
RRR-SHREEESH!
Looking over his shoulder, the Doc saw the Firefly that he'd employed in his failed escape ploy lift off then accelerate away into the sky, rapidly shrinking to a small dot. One of the feds shoved him along, and the Doc moved on to option two.
Do nothing - accept the punishment they give me. I didn't kill anyone. Fine, but will the feds think that? According to them, I'm probably an accessory to the murd.. killing of two federals. Not getting out of that anytime soon...
With the first two options out of the way, he moved onto the third, and (in this case, as well as in medicine) one of the most useful:
Wait. Wait until I can talk, or at least establish contact, with Rubick. He's the key to this, probably done it more than me... Wait until we're back on the ground, see where they take us, then escape from there. Yes, thats the best long term plan, but its not quite enough.
The feds pushed him towards a cell. Constructed of a thick metal mesh, and backing onto the hull of the ship, it allowed constant observation of a prisoner during transit.
Ok, back-up plan needed, just in case everything goes pear-shaped. Got to keep my eyes open, just in case there's an opportunity. And if its a good one, take it, cos there might not be another...
~33c~
As Ethan sat on the empty bucket that served as a makeshift chair in the common area, his jaw and leg throbbing, he began to question the wisdom of his choice to come aboard. The girl Miriam was sitting beside him, waiting for him to say something it seemed. She seemed the complete antithesis of her supposed uncle. She was caring and sweet where he was irritable and violent.
~~~
Earlier in the cargo bay, after the bounty hunter Jayman had left, he simply stayed sprawled on the hard metal floor, stunned, working his jaw to make sure it wasn't broken.
Hwoon dahn! He had thought to himself. I offered him so much just for passage in his ship, and he still decides to lay me out. Then he considered the man's final words to him. "An' noone tells me wha't'do." He had said before turning to go.
Here is a man with a touchy pride, and I sure as hell seem to have insulted him with my presumption.
Then there had been sounds from the common area behind him, and he immediately got to his feet. He had decided in an instant not to let Miriam know what had happened.
At least my beard will hide any bruising, he thought just before she entered and properly introduced herself to him.
"Almost forgot! Hi, my name's Miriam. I'm really sorry about Uncle Jake. He can get a little cranky sometimes, but he'll warm up once he gets to know you... You're, um, Ethan, right?"
He nodded, "Since I was born."
She smiled. "Well, Ethan, we'll be taking off soon. Uncle says a quick hop to Columbia to refuel. And if I'm lucky, maybe a bit of shopping..."
Miriam had shown him the room he would be staying in; an adequate passenger dorm only slightly smaller than the room he kept in the back of his shop. She had done it all with what seemed almost like giddiness. Ethan figured it had more to do with the excitement of meeting new people, perhaps the prospect of shopping, rather than an actual fondness for this dusty old cripple.
~~~
RRR-SHREEESH!
Now, as the ship was taking off, they sat in an awkward silence, just outside his new room in what passed for a lounge in this ship. Say something, he urged himself.
He decided that now was as good a time as any to explain his story to her, but how to start?
"I'm real sorry for whatever trouble I caused you, just bargin' in here." he finally began as he opened a pocket of his cargo vest and removed a cigar and matches. "I might have made my appeal to ya'll more formally, but it looked like you were 'bout to take off."
"You're right, we were." Miriam continued to smile, almost distantly. "Something happened at the Rollin' River. And Uncle Jake can be so overprotective... But I don't mind the company. I hope he doesn't either."
My jaw knows otherwise, he thought but didn't dare say. Instead he simply nodded with his own smile.
"Well, I'm obliged." he struck a match and went to light his cigar before remembering his manners. "This alright?"
"Um... Yeah, go ahead."
As he lit his cigar, he considered how to proceed. "I really do know how an engine works, too. I wasn't lying 'bout that... I just figured you would rather have the stuff from my shop, but I guess it was my skills, not my goods that were my ticket aboard."
He took a deep, relaxing drag from the cigar, tasting the tobacco and letting it calm his voice.
"Ya see, I have an affinity fer this model. It's what I used to fly back on Persephone with my brothers. Also, I ain't too happy with the life I've been leadin' on that moon since the war. So, it kinda just struck me when I saw yer' ship that this was meant to be. Next thing I knew I was runnin' and shoutin' and well, I guess you know the rest." He finished with a light chuckle.
As he breathed smoke from his lungs, his grin faded and his face became more solemn. "I really do hope to carve out a future here, Miriam. I'll work my ass off for the both of ya' if you'll trust me. I just need a new purpose, even if it's helpin' ya' hunt bounties."
He hadn't planned on being so honest until he'd already spoken. Now that all of his cards were on the table, he was nervous to see how Miriam would react.
~33d~
Rubick looked around at the wire-mesh walls of the cell, pondering his situation. Obviously, the only chance was to wait until the ASREV landed and they were offloaded. The problem with that, of course, is that once it did the Feds would have more backup and better networks.
On the other hand, he would have more area to hide in until he could leave the moon behind, so the situation seemed as balanced as an interplanetary criminal could hope for. Unfortunately, the troops were more disciplined than the average Alliance thugs and it wouldn't be very easy to goad them into a mistake. The one barely even touched him, despite his best efforts at provocation.
And then of course, he would have to bring that doctor with him as well, which could be an even bigger difficulty if the feds continued to keep them in separate cells. Finally, he decided there was nothing more to consider until he could witness the conditions after landfall, so he sat down with his back in the corner and rested his eyes.
~~~
Looking around through the wire mesh of his cell on the ASREV, the Doc realised his earlier analysis of the situation was correct. Rubick's attempt to provoke the feds had unfortunately failed, leaving them no option but to wait out the ride and try something once planetside. Assuming, of course, that the mercenary would help him...
Meanwhile, there was another problem to think about. Wei Fu-She's drug-induced liver problems had to be dealt with, and the Doc would be lucky indeed to find a supply of Hepatogen (the drug needed) in the undoubtedly rudimentary medical kit on board.
There was, however, nothing the Doc could do about either of his problems, especially without establishing contact with Rubick. Perhaps if they do rough him over a bit, then the services of a doctor would be required, but the feds were showing remarkable self-control for a squad that had just lost two members.
Settling back against the uncomfortable wall, the Doc again lapsed into a light, fitful sleep.
~34a~
~Year 2510~
"M-me name's Jacob... J-Jacob Mandara."
Upon further inspection of the young soldier amidst the chilly morning breeze, Lieutenant Kan-chiang not only found a broken arm, but a fractured leg to match, as well as a considerable impact wound to the side of his ribcage, the same side as his broken arm. Probably due to flying concrete fragments. And probably resulting in several cracked ribs. In any case, the bleeding didn't look good. But it could've been worse.
Blinking in the stinging air, the lieutenant surveyed the stark landscape. The cold lonely shards of former buildings. The stained gray uniforms of former lives. You could've been dead.
Weakly, breathlessly, the youngster murmured, "Me name's Jacob..."
The lieutenant needed to act quickly.
Gently sitting up the injured youngster, Kan-chiang pulled off his long brown coat and carefully slipped it onto the shivering soldier. Then, hauling the soldier up, he moved underneath the body to let it drape over his broad back, its limp arms hanging over his strong shoulders. Finally, reaching back with both arms to grasp both dangling legs, he rose cautiously with his semi-conscious cargo.
"Argh!" Kan-chiang growled in the offensive air as he fought to maintain his burdened balance.
"Ma namma cobba..." the youngster mumbled.
"Hey! Jacob!" the lieutenant barked, his deep voice resonating as his heavy boots crunched across the landscape. "Stay with me! You hear me?"
"Manamma... ria..."
"Hey! Soldier!"
"Uh, wha?"
"That's better!" the lieutenant grunted as he lumbered towards the foot of the hillside. "Come on! You gotta stay awake!"
"W-wha' cha' doin'?"
"Tell me a story! T-Tell me about her..."
Carrying the young soldier uphill upon his back, Kan-chiang seriously hoped the nearest triage point still survived and operated at its original location. If so, it would be no more than a mile past the hill. Just a mile away! But with Jacob's injuries, it could be his last hope. Or his last mile. Come on, Kan-chiang! Pick up your feet! Just a mile away!
"Come on, Jacob! Tell me about Arria..."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~The Rose~
"Gaaahhh!" Captain Jayman grunted as he reached one of the overhead control switches, instinctively throwing his other hand beneath his jacket and over his aching side. His old war-wounded side. Gorram it! Musta pull'd it with that dang punch!
As Jayman steered his old Firefly into the orange-lit atmo, the mudball town of Winding Valley rapidly shrunk into a minute dot on the dirtball face of Santa Maria. Then even that dot disappeared.
SWOOOSH!
Just as rapidly, the bright planet Columbia steadily grew in his cockpit windshield. For a moment, he sighed in the relative serenity of open space. The soothing hum of the engine. The smiling light of the stars. The comforting sense of floating. Until his newly complicated thoughts dragged him back down to the present. An hones' t' badness bounty hunter. Ha!
If anyone was a bounty hunter, it was his savior and teacher, his partner and lao xiong ("old friend" or "noble brother"), Captain Kan-chiang. A once-in-a-'verse friend. And like a loyal underling, Jayman just tagged along for the hunt. Kan-chiang was the born-and-bred lawman, the seasoned policeman, sheriff, and soldier during the War. Meanwhile, already four years into the War, Jayman was just a university graduate student, suddenly thrown into the military draft by the inescapable all-powerful Alliance, not knowing if he'd live or die.
Now, seven years later, with Kan-chiang and the rest of the old crew gone for almost two years, Jayman continued to cope with his loss, and hope for the best. And except for the occasional one-sided arguments with the mechanically touchy-and-needy Rose, or the less-frequent wave to and from Miriam, he managed to continue on his own. A hunter in the familiar footsteps of his lao xiong, but nevertheless on his own two feet. In his defiance of retirement, his love of independence, his precious solitude... and his increasingly unbearable loneliness.
"Gos se," he cursed under his accented breath. He hated the feeling of helplessness or weakness... or fear. In some ways, he was still the innocent young soldier, lying helpless under a pile of rotting bodies.
Columbia.
As the planet filled the windshield, Jayman yawned. And he quickly remembered how exhausted he was. Maybe Miriam's bouncing desire to shop wasn't such a bad idea after all. Refueling the Rose wouldn't take long. Maybe afterwards, he could steal a nap till she returned. A nap! With all them lost bounties, ruttin' locals an' crawlin' feds, Buddha knows I earn'd it!
His mismatched eyes blinking in seeping weariness and squinting in the growing brightness, Jayman looked forward to a nice quiet nap.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~The ASREV~
Fully loaded with the two prisoners, two all-terrain vehicles, ten remaining officers in Sergeant Vanderson's squad, plus two more from the secondary squad, the Alliance Short Range Enforcement Vessel (ASREV) finally blasted off the dust-swept surface of the moon.
RRR-ROOOAAAR!
While the rattling vehicles were netted and chained to the central aisle of the 100-foot-long cargo hold, the purple-armored officers sat quietly and uncomfortably on squeaking metal benches welded along both concave sides of the large fuselage. Midway against the port-side wall, stood a series of five wire-mesh chain-linked cells, capable of holding one or two prisoners each. Their wrists bound behind them and their ankles linked in short chains, the large Rubick and the small Lun-kuai sat silently in the second and fourth cells.
From the opposite wall on the starboard side, Vanderson focussed his blue eyes on his prisoners. Yeah... Hair by hair... inch by inch... foot by foot... six feet under...
In the brief atmo turbulence, his gaze was jostled towards his men. Vanderson was proud of his men today. Petrovich. Tanaka. Bradley. Chen-Yi. Jackson. Nichols. Wang. As well as Cobbler and Rodriguez who laid lifeless further up the vessel. Even out here in the Desertina star system, a mere frontier system about a week or so from Persephone, his men did the job. Despite the numerous accounts of purple-bellied corruption and greed, his more-disciplined men did the job. Despite the bitter resentment of the occasional ex-Browncoat, the Alliance was the law of the land. And his men upheld the law. Yeah, he was proud of his men.
Soon, Vanderson and his men would receive a rare gift. They would have the rare pleasure of witnessing Christobal's infamous "trail of guilt." And both Rubick and Lun-kuai would have the rare opportunity of being the guilty stars of the show. Once more, the squad leader chuckled.
Quickly, the officer beside him picked it up and doubled the laughter. Then another fed tripled it. Another quadrupled it. And on and on. Until the cargo hold reverberated above the howl of the atmo with the vengeful laughter of a dozen armored officers.
"Ha! Hahaha! Hahahahahaha!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~Planet Columbia~
Shooting like a meteorite toward the evening city, she closed her twinkling eyes and revelled in the racing and roaring rush of speed and flight... And as one glove strayed down below her waist, she smiled in utter pleasure.
And then-- SWOOOSH!
Startled by the overhead wail of an incoming craft, Lucky Yoshikawa leapt from her dream, snapped open her goggle-covered eyes and dropped her outstretched legs from the dashboard.
"A-ha!" her British accent proclaimed. "Customers!"
With the pull of a side lever, her reclined seat sprang back to its upright position. And with the turn of a key, her aluminum-framed sand buggy buzzed back to life.
Brummm! Brummm!
Accelerating across the bumpy desert, Lucky pursued the distant ship. Her black red-streaked pigtails whipping behind her, she was struck by the peculiar yet familiar form and flight of the craft.
"Twin extenders," she noted, keeping one goggled eye on the path ahead, and another on the ship above. "Twin ion jets. Yeah. Elevated forward-neck structure. Spheroidal rear-engine structure. Yeah. An Aught-Three Firefly-class transport!"
"Ha-ha!" she laughed as she sped towards the outskirts of Christobal. "Think you can do it? Ten miles in ten minutes? Oh yeah!"
Brummm! Brummm!
Streaking at top speed, Lucky soared through the air over another sand dune.
"Yeee-hawww!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~The Rose~
As nineteen-year-old Miriam Saint-Peters sat in the only real chair in the lower-level common area -- a littered irregular-shaped room looking more like a storage space or even an electromechanic's shop than a common area -- the bearded stranger named Ethan sat on an upside-down bucket beside her, waiting for her to say something. Or was she waiting for him?
~~~
Earlier, Uncle Jake had sent her from the cargo bay to pick out a decent room for Ethan.
"Oh yeah, Miriam. I jus' r'member'd. I gotta lay out th' groun' rules fer our new guest. G'ahead an' round up a prop'r room fer him. We'll catch ya up, 'kay?"
"Sure!" the girl smiled and dashed through the entrance.
Before today, it had been at least a year, maybe two, since she actually stepped onboard the Rose, named in honor of her mother Rosemarie Saint-Peters. Ironically, far from being a saint, she was a deadbeat trollop, ever-wandering and ever-missing. But she was still her mom, and she was the love of her dad's vigilante life. As much as he loved his daughter Miriam, as much as he loved his Firefly, Raymond Kan-chiang loved Rosemarie till his last lonely day. But without him, the Firefly had grown as cluttered and unkempt as Uncle Jake's rough manners.
Picking the cleanest room she could find, Miriam began clearing away the random boxes and crates, as well as a few books, tools and empty bottles. Moments later, Uncle found her.
"Miriam, best keep tha' nosy local 'ere on th' lower level. I don' trust his freebie goodies or his offer ta work. An' neith'r should you. We'll be jettin' off soon, so keep 'im outta me way and outta me sights. Dong ma?"
She began shaking out and straightening the bed sheets. "Where are we going?"
"Jus' a quick hop to Columbia to refuel--"
The teenager spun toward him. "And shopping?"
"I don' recommend--"
"Look, Uncle Jake," the girl stood defiantly. "If we're finally gonna stick to each other, then I think you oughta treat me like a grown-up. I said it before, and I'll say it again. I can take care of myself... Dong ma?"
Opening his mouth to protest, the captain suddenly caught himself and deflated with a groan. "A'right-a'right, I'll think 'bout it."
Bubbling with giddiness, Miriam smiled widely. "Thanks, Uncle Jake!"
~~~
After showing Ethan to his room, the disheveled old Rose finally took off. Unfortunately, an awkward silence managed to hang between the two relative strangers like the suffocating dung-like stink in the cargo bay. One minute. Then two. Then another.
Finally, Ethan spoke up. "I'm real sorry for whatever trouble I caused you, just bargin' in here..." Not only did he open up his vest, he seemed to open up a little bit of himself as they began to talk a little more.
Miriam smiled distantly. She noted the way he asked for permission, the way he lit his cigar, even the way he reminisced about his past. Despite Uncle's warning, she felt that she could risk trusting this stranger. After all, she was a grown-up, right?
Ethan continued in his cigar-smoke sincerity. "I really do hope to carve out a future here, Miriam. I'll work my ass off for the both of ya' if you'll trust me. I just need a new purpose, even if it's helpin' ya' hunt bounties."
~~~
With the warm brown-eyed smile of someone beyond her years, the teenager turned to the stranger. "I'm gonna let you in on a little secret. Uncle doesn't trust you."
Ethan chuckled. "Yeah, well, I don't think it's a secret."
"But despite Uncle, I'm gonna trust you. You know why?"
The stranger shook his head.
"Not because you may have free supplies or mechanical skills or anything external like that..."
Confusion crossed over Ethan's face. "Then why--"
"I'm gonna trust you because when you first approached the ship, I recognized the expression in your eyes. I've seen it often enough at the Rollin' River. Like a young man asking a girl out on a date for the first time, it was an expression of love... a love that twists your tongue, quickens your step and fires your heart..."
Miriam glanced down at the random pieces of metal and wood and paper on the floor. "An expression like that usually appears at the sight of a beautiful girl... or a beautiful ship... And if a man can feel that kinda love, then he can't be all that bad..."
Her voice softened. "I should know because my dad had that same expression for my mom... and for this Firefly... the Rose..."
All Ethan could do was gaze downward and listen.
"My Uncle Jake has been through a lot. In fact, my dad saved his life during the War. But after that War, Uncle couldn't return to his old life. Or maybe his old life couldn't return to him. And his fiancee, his friends, his family, everyone he knew and loved, abandoned him. So my dad taught him a new life. A new life on the frontier..."
Tears began to well up in her wide auburn eyes. "Over the years, those two had become the best of friends. Like a couple of old junkyard dogs, barking at women and chasing after bounties wherever they could find them..." She managed a tearful smile. "Especially the barking..."
Her voice softened even more. "So when my dad died, it hit Uncle hard... really really hard..."
Miriam sniffled. "That's why Uncle Jake won't trust anyone. Because my dad was the only one he ever trusted, the only one who didn't abandon him. And now he's gone. Sometimes I wonder if Uncle trusts himself anymore. Or if he even trusts me..." She wiped away her tears. "But he's my Uncle Jake. I gotta stick by him. Because he's the only family I have left."
She paused and laughed weakly. "Look at me. I'm a mess..." And with another sniffle, she continued. "But give him time. He'll warm up. If you love this Firefly as much as I think you do, then don't just tell him. Show him. Your actions will speak louder than words. And when he sees that, I think he'll get the message..."
Then, clearing her eyes and clearing her throat, Miriam stood up. "And speaking of messes..."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~Planet Columbia~
SHREEESH! RRR-THOOM!
Like a dried-brown autumn leaf floating in the wind, the descending Rose hovered and touched-down at the Christobal spaceport as other ships ascended away into the glorious mid-day atmo.
Several times larger and more-populated than Winding Valley, Christobal was one of the major towns on the frontier planet Columbia. Flourishing around a one-mile-long thirty-foot-wide central thoroughfare, the heart of town boasted a modest two-story Alliance station -- responsible for a half-dozen squads and ASREVs -- and a medical facility -- staffed with a half-dozen physicians plus nurses and assistants -- but nothing as advanced as the core Alliance planets. Even so, for a frontier world such as this, these facilities were state-of-the-art.
Meanwhile, the busy spaceport and its fueling stations sat at the southern endpoint of the long hustling-and-bustling thoroughfare. Here, the planted Rose disengaged its ion jets, folded its extenders, and lowered its cargo-bay ramp. With another mechanical hum, it then began to slide open its inner doors.
Hummm!
Finally, with the doors wide open, an imposing figure in a black cap and a black coat strode out from the dim mechanical shadows and into the brilliant Desertina sunlight.
"Aaahhh," the figure yawned, stretching an arm above his head.
Then suddenly-- "Hiya! Fancy a lift?"
"Shah muh? (What?)" Caught in mid-stretch, the dark figure whirled to his far left, and zeroed in on a big-wheeled aluminum-framed dune buggy. And in the driver's seat smiled a cute pig-tailed Asian girl in mirrored goggles, a short skin-baring outfit, and a relaxing hands-behind-her-head pose.
"It's-Your-Lucky-Day Taxi," her Neo-British voice purred. "At your service."
~34b~
Rubick sat silently in his cell looking blankly across at the wall. There wasn't a single thought going through his mind or a single sound registering in his brain. It was what his sister used to call his "standby mode" back when he first learned to use it to block out the war. Of course, he had gotten much better at it since the river, but there were still things that would penetrate it.
A wave of laughter crashed into his senses. He heard his sister's light chuckle and Sheperd Eli's rolling mirth. He saw the townfolk gathered at the school at Christmas, laughing and smiling; passing ng-ka-pei in front of the roaring fire. And then the laughter hardened and deepened, gathering a maniacal quality. The fire spread out of control, consuming the roots of his world. The faces of the people twisted in shock and pain, anger and despair, and new faces appeared. Hideous grins yowled in glee and angular figures frollicked among the dead.
His eyes snapped open as the purple bellies merriment resounded around the ship. He struggled to focus on them, to see their mocking twisted leers, but his vision would not release its scattered clouds. The world seemed to move in slow motion as the laughs careened about and he heard a small chuckle nearby. His face redonned its own hideous grin and he chuckled softly to himself, adrift on the roiling soundwaves.
~35a~
~Town of Cristobal~
As small, medium and large transports flitted and fluttered to and from the Columbia atmo, the streams of pedestrians, passengers and customers just-as-busily came and went through the southern "gateway" -- a thirty-by-thirty-foot square space marked by four tall lamp posts -- that joined the spaceport to the thoroughfare. Small stores and shops lined the gateway like dirt-colored teeth in a wide-smiling dirt-filled mouth. Storeowners called attention to their sales and specials. A pair of purple-armored feds strolled through the cooking smells of commerce. Laughing children in tattered attire chased each other through the maze of chatting people, squeaking horse-drawn carriages, and humming motorized buggies.
To one side of the gateway, sat a modest circular stage about fifteen-feet wide and three-feet high. And beside the stage, stood a sign with the words "Welcome to the Trail of Guilt" hand-painted in red upon it.
Suddenly, mixed harshly into the everyday sounds of the town, an Asian-style brass gong rang three times in three seconds.
Gong!... Gong!... Gong!
Then from behind a freestanding curtain -- a patchwork of cloth and plastic -- a curious little top-hatted clown leapt onto the circular stage, and began the midday show with a painted-on grin, a beat-up megaphone and a bigger-than-expected voice...
"Ladies and gents,
Welcome around,
'Tis the Trail of Guilt!
And I'm Corky the Clown!"
The dusty top-hatted host bent down into a majestic bow. Despite the overall hustle-and-bustle, a handful of youngsters offered a sprinkling applause as the offstage tune of flutes accompanied the clown.
"If y'folks haven't heard,
On the radio or wave,
Here's a tidbit o' news,
For the weak and the brave."
"Not too long ago,
On St. Maria's moon,
Two Feds were murdered,
In the light of afternoon."
In an amusing musical display, a black-cloaked clown on three-foot stilts and a midget clown in a green raincoat danced from the curtain onto the stage, while two more clowns in purple plastic hats twirled after them. Several children giggled as a dozen spectators chuckled.
"The two hoodlums fled,
Tossing their traps and tricks,
Till our hometown Feds,
Grabbed them in their grips."
The gathering townfolk clapped and cheered as the purple-hatted clowns captured the pretending criminals.
"The huge one is Rubick,
With scars under his eye,
The small one is slippery,
A doctor called Lun-kuai."
The scattered echos of boos and hisses. The black-cloaked clown on stilts raised his arms in a monster-like pose. An evil grimace distorted his painted face. The midget clown likewise posed his arms with an evil yet goofy sneer. As he spun his tiny frame, his green raincoat billowed around him. More boos and hisses.
"Within the hour,
Their ship will touch down,
Bring your rotten tomatoes!
Let's take 'em to the ground!"
With his last line, Corky the Clown bounded across the front of the stage and pumped his fist above his head. His four supporting clowns continued their twirling and dancing behind him, the flight of flutes filling their ears.
"Yeah! We'll take 'em down!" a spectator roared. More claps and cheers and laughter from nearly three dozen townfolk! And like a lightning rod, Corky focussed the growing atmospheric energy into leading a fiery chant!
"Take them down! Take them down! Take them down!..."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~The Rose~
Then, clearing her eyes and clearing her throat, Miriam stood up. "And speaking of messes..."
Detachedly, almost absent-mindedly, the leather-clad teenager began organizing the littered common area. She gathered the scattered electrical components and mechanical parts together into a crate. She collected the ragged pieces of cloth. She picked up another soiled rag and--
"Ahhh!" she shrieked as a large cockroach skittered away under another pile of clutter.
"What happened?" the bearded newcomer spun with blue eyes wide, the junk-filled bucket in his hand.
Miriam twisted her face into a disgusted scowl. "A ruttin' cockroach! Yeghhh!"
"Hahahaha!" Ethan chuckled. "Just one?"
Briefly embarrassed, the girl hesitantly joined his laughter. And when her laughter faded, she resumed her task.
SHREEESH! RRR-THOOM!
With the familiar clank, rattle and thud of the decks, the Rose landed on Columbia.
"Touching down on Columbia," Ethan noted through his cigar-filled teeth.
"Yep," Miriam nodded, got back on her feet, and straightened up to catch a wider panorama of the much-less-cluttered area. "Not bad! Much better than before. Gorram, I've never seen a ship so messy!"
"Ah, it's not that bad." Ethan remarked with amusement. "Hell, your captain's a regular housemaid compared to how I keep my shop. Ten times the clutter and ten times the cockroaches!"
"Yeah, right," the girl shot a skeptical look.
"No, really! There was this one time some fancy-man from the core planets came back to return a catalyzer cause it had become the nest for a group of dung beetles. They had packed the thing so full of--"
Suddenly -- "Wait a sec!" -- Miriam interrupted him. She thought she recognized a distant voice echoing from the cargo bay.
And then the voice returned--
"...Miriam! Can ya hear me?!..."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~Cristobal Spaceport~
"It's-Your-Lucky-Day Taxi," her Neo-British voice purred. "At your service."
Relaxing his awkward mid-stretch into a self-confident stance, Captain Jayman oozed an intrigued smile across his unshaven face and chuckled, "An' from th' skimpy looks of it, I'd estimate a rightly sleazy service."
"Hmmm," the pig-tailed Asian girl oozed back in reply, climbed out of her dune buggy, and slinked toward the dark figure. "Be careful what you wish for. Been a few moons since my last taste of Aussie-Asian."
SPLINK! Jayman thought. Another one of those striking moments when it felt like a banjo string was plucked and split in the midst of a really flat note.
He shrugged mischievously. "What a blazin' coincidence. Been a few moons meself since me last splash o' Anglo-Asian."
Within feet of the loading ramp, the Lucky-Day taxi driver snickered. "As if you could handle one."
"Heh!" the Firefly captain grinned. "Be careful whatcha wish for!" And he laughed at his own cleverness until--
"Oh, I'm quite careful." The driver pulled off her mirrored mini-goggles to reveal her piercing dark eyes.
SPLINK!
Another odd moment of extended silence. And then the surrounding roars of engines, hums of motors, and chatters of voices stabbed through his weariness and came into full focus once more. The sounds of Cristobal spaceport.
"So what's it gonna be?" the sultry voice purred.
"Shah muh? (What?)"
The taxi driver sighed in slight frustration. "Don't you need a... ride?"
Feeling as if Kan-chiang's ghost was grinning widely over his shoulder, Jayman clearly received her message. But he couldn't accept the offer. Not right now. Not while Miriam and that straggling newcomer tagged along. Not while the Rose needed refueling. Not while he promised himself a decent nap. A nice quiet nap! Lost bounties. Ruttin' locals. Crawlin' feds. Buddha knows I earn'd a nap!
"Ahhh," he likewise sighed. "Ya don' know how much I'd love a ride... But me situation, I'm kinda tied up..."
And the captain reluctantly turned himself away towards the cargo bay doors.
"Hey, Miriam!... Miriam! Can ya hear me?!..." he hollered, stuffed two fingers into his mouth, and blasted a series of short high-pitched shrills. "Still bent on shoppin'?!"
~~~
As Miriam dashed into the foul-smelling cargo bay, and swept past the bikes, crates, leaves and branches, she could hear her pseudo-uncle's funny whistle much more clearly. That's just like Uncle Jake.
"...Still bent on shoppin'?!" he shouted out.
"Shopping?" the teenager called back between breaths. Then bouncing onto the loading ramp, into the brilliant Desertina sunlight, she added, "Really, Uncle Jake? Are you ser--" She stopped beside him, surprised by a new presence. "Who's she?"
"It's-Your-Lucky-Day Taxi." The petite new presence stepped forward and bowed, her red-streaked black hair tossing in the dusty breeze. "At your service. My name's Lucky."
The bright-eyed teen offered a handshake. "I'm Miriam. Pleased to meet you!"
"Likewise..." The taxi driver accepted the hand but instead, without warning, she gently kissed it. "Been a while since my last nibble."
Quiet confusion crossed over Miriam's face. "What?"
At the same time, the captain's jaw dropped.
"Nevermind," the driver smiled and glanced slyly at the captain. "Just a passing temptation."
~~~
SPLONK! Captain Jayman thought yet again. Yet another odd moment. But this time, his tired mind flashed to the unavoidable image of Lucky baring her-- Nonono. Not right now! And his mismatched eyes instantly blinked away the visual temptation.
To distract himself even further, he quickly changed the subject. "Uh, Miriam..."
"Yeah?"
"Don' forgit this." The captain pulled out a clinking coin bag from his outside coat pocket, and handed it to his pseudo-niece with another ringing clink.
"Thanks, Uncle Jake."
The taxi driver's dark eyes widened at the wondrous sight and sound of money. "Right! Anyone else?" She flicked her gaze towards the cargo bay entrance. "How 'bout your hairy little friend?"
Skeptically and simultaneously, Jayman and Miriam looked over their shoulders to find a dusty old figure huddling in the shadows of the air lock.
Recognizing the storekeeper, Miriam quickly relaxed into a smiling wave. "Hey Ethan! Come on! Wanna join me in a little shopping?"
After a wary glance to the Captain, Ethan turned to the girl and shrugged, calling back, "Sure thing! Shopping it is!"
"Right! It's settled then." The driver gestured to her shiny aluminum-framed dune buggy. "Go ahead, folks, climb in and make yourselves comfortable..."
As Miriam and Ethan headed away for the big-wheeled sand vehicle, Lucky secretly elbowed Jayman in the gut.
"Agh!" the captain gasped. "Wha's 'at for?"
Lucky grinned then added in her slinkiest whisper, "You can't play hard-to-get forever."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~Town of Cristobal~
Once her customers settled themselves in, the Lucky-Day taxi driver hopped into her left-side steering seat, slid her mini-goggles over her eyes, and looked over her shoulder. "Everyone ready?"
"Ready!" Miriam declared.
"Yep." Ethan was less enthusiastic.
"Our destination?"
Miriam spoke up. "Let's try the Wild Flower. I've always wanted to go there."
"Smashing!" With a lurch, Lucky backed her vehicle away from the Firefly, and with another lurch, spun her sand-kicking buggy in a leaning turn around the other side of the ship.
As it sped away, Miriam waved to her Uncle Jake -- "We'll be back in a couple hours!" -- as he waved back to his grown-up niece with a sunlit twinkle in his emerald biomechanical eye.
In moments, the trio zoomed from the mid-sized docking port and slowed towards town, weaving their way through the human streams, through other motorized vehicles, and through Cristobal's southern gateway.
"And this," Lucky explained, "is Cristobal's splendid central thoroughfare. Thirty feet in breadth and nearly one mile in length. Not bad for a faraway frontier town, eh?"
Suddenly, to her right, laughter and music stole Miriam's attention.
"Within the hour,
Their ship will touch down,
Bring your rotten tomatoes!
Let's take 'em to the ground!"
More laughter and claps and cheers. A distant voice cried out, "One more time! One more time!" And the voice zoomed away as the dune buggy found a clear path.
Miriam leaned forward to reach Lucky's ear. "What was that? What's that show?"
"A-ha!" Lucky laughed. "You mean the 'Trail of Guilt'!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~The ASREV~
"Ha! Hahaha! Hahahahahaha!"
The vengeful laughter eventually died down. And Sergeant Vanderson felt the naked reality of the situation steadily reassert its massive weight. Even the rare pleasure of witnessing Christobal's infamous "trail of guilt," that too would inevitably die down and fade away. And Cobbler and Rodriguez would still lay lifeless.
Once more, Vanderson focussed his blue eyes through the wire mesh onto his prisoners. Just lying there, either sleeping or staring. How gorram disappointing.
But he focussed on them nonetheless.
It was his job.
The law of the land.
And soon--
RRR-ROOOAAAR! RRR-THOOM!
The enforcement vessel touched down at the Christobal spaceport.
~35b~
Rubick felt the energy flow out of him as the laughter slowly died down throughout the compartment. He really didn't know what to make of that event, but at this point in time he was too weighed down mentally to make sense of anything. As he continued looking at the wall he felt the eyes of one of the feds rest on him, probably contemplating his gruesome death. Regardless, he continued to look at the wall, trying, unsuccesfully, to clear his mind, finally closing his eyes in annoyance.
After a few seconds a loud noise and a jarring contact announced the ASREV's end of flight, and as she touched down all the troubles, thoughts, and memories circling Rubick's consciousness evaporated. He opened his eyes and again, and, slightly turning his head, met the Fed's gaze. Slowly, he moved to his knees and then to his feet, never moving his glance. He straightened up with his manacles behind him, and waited for the next move.
~35c~
"Ha! Hahaha! Hahahahahaha!"
The doc awoke to the sounds of laughter. Bitter, vengeful laughter. As it died away, he started to feel something for the squad of feds. Not much, admittedly, but he knew what it was like to lose a member of a tight-knit group. Of course, they were still feds, incompetant barbarians ruled over by imperialistic fools, so his feelings didn't run that deep. But at least he could understand the reason behind their laughter.
Opening his eyes, the doc looked over to the blue-eyed fed sergeant. His gaze was as bitter as the laughter, if not more so.
RRR-ROOOAAAR! RRR-THOOM!
With a muffled thud, the ASREV landed. From the brief flight time, the doc deduced that they were probably on the planet Columbia.
The feds, at a command from their sergeant, leapt to their feet. Half went to Rubick's cell, half towards the Doc. Gesturing to Rubick, who was still wearing a serene smile, they dragged him roughly out of his cell and over to the ramp. As the ramp started to lower, they entered the doc's cell and motioned for him to get up.
"Hey, I've been poisoned, I'm going to be dead in the next few days, I need to have a look at your medical kit. Please?" Unlikely though it was that the feds would accomodate, the doc thought it was worth a try.
Unfortunately, the fed disagreed, and a swipe from the butt of his sonic rifle slammed into his stomach, knocking the breath out of him. As he collapsed, winded, the fed started laying into him, kicking and beating him, until a snarled command from the sergeant stopped the attack.
"Enough o' that! Let the trail handle 'em."
Still panting, the doc was dragged into the open, towards the ramp. Surrounded by feds, the big mercenary and the smaller doctor were herded down the ramp, into the blazing sunlight. Squinting in the unaccustomed brightness, the doc tried to make out what was going on...