sail3695

Firefly - Second 'Verse

The Unthinkable

S.A.M.A.N.T.H.A. appears courtesy of @wanderingwolf
Rex Black is a character created by @Psych0pomp

Despite China Doll racing forward at flank speed, the tapestry of stars reflected very little change to their progress. The only noteworthy exception was the planet Osiris, sufficiently grown in the cockpit viewports to present her spherical shape. Still, their destination wasn’t much larger than the twinkling pinpricks of an eternal night sky.

Sam had cracked KYLE’s rolling encryptions several hours hence, rewarding the First Mate with not only the more serious criminal records, but every bit of dirt scooped up by a diligent Khao Yai detective on the doings of Headhunters M.C. “Su Lin Earp,” Rex voiced approvingly as he studied her notes. “With work like this, they must’ve made her Chief of Police by now.”

“No.” After a couple days’ working with the AI, he could almost swear that Sam’s responses harbored deeper emotions. “Her personnel record indicates resignation. Coincidentally, the dates of Detective Lieutenant Earp’s resignation and the official sealing of the Headhunters M.C. files are identical.”

“Hmmph,” Rex grunted. “If I were a betting man…”

“Persona non grata status alerts from seven casinos indicate that you are.”

He smiled. “Hey, I’m a lucky guy. This detective? Not so much.” He paused to scan the autopilot course heading, which now read straight and true after some recalibration by Yuri. “So Sam, I conjure the bike club made a fat donation to the benevolent fund about that time?”

“Indirectly,” S.A.M.A.N.T.H.A. replied. “The donation came from Janitek, one of the Headhunters’ money laundering firms.”

“Now we’re talking. How many shadow businesses does the club run?”

“Nine. I’m preparing a summation for you now.”

“Fantastic,” Rex offered a grateful nod for his unseen cohort’s work. “With complete ledgers, please.”

“Waiting in your personal folder,” the AI responded briskly. “Shall I provide my own analysis?”

“Fosh. We can go over it all tonight, when I’m in my quarters. Then maybe you can stick around?” he grinned. “Whisper sweet nothings into my ear?”

“While that is possible,” Sam replied, “I’d suggest that if your nightly visits to Cortex Cuties no longer suffice, there are hundreds of similar content sources available.”

“Never mind,” he chuckled as he reached for the intercom directional switch. “Antonov,” the First Mate keyed his mic. “You there?”

After a moment’s wait, he was rewarded with the mechanic’s voice. “Yes, sir,” Yuri answered.

“Got a minute to join me in the cockpit?”

“Should I bring a toolkit?”

“Nope. We’re shootin’ the breeze.”

“On my way,” came a dubious sounding response. In the time it took him to walk forward from the engine room, Your Antonov was soon tapping on the door frame. “You wanted to talk to me?”

Rex wheeled about in the pilot’s seat. “More like ‘with.’ Do me a favor and dog that hatch, wouldja?”

“Sure.” After locking the hatch into place, the younger man turned forward. “What’s on your mind?”

Rex waved him into the empty copilot’s seat. “Cap’n’s had me a little busy on this run,” he began. “I don’t conjure the sitch could be a whole lot worse, what with Abby bein’ held and bikers calling our shots.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Yuri gave a slow nod. “The ‘suck’ knob’s turned up high on this one, alright.”

“So how’re you holdin’ up?”

“Fair enough,” Yuri shrugged. “The boat’s solid, and the maint logs don’t show any major work due til I have my arm back. Plus, both Hook and Edina have given me help when I needed two good hands.”

The First Mate stretched in his chair. “Yeah, that Eddie,” he smiled wistfully. “We’re refunding her fare for this trip, what with all the work she’s taking care of.”

“Good call.”
“You think she can handle herself tomorrow night?”

Yuri stroked his beard. “She’s plenty nervous,” he admitted, “but I conjure I’d be more worried if she wasn’t. She’s practicing with her pistol, and asking Hook lots of questions. Just between us, I’m planning to hang close to her tomorrow night…in case things go South.”

“Good,” the First Mate nodded. “Good. I think the world of her standin’ with us, but she’s still a passenger. You keepin’ an eye out for her takes a load off.” He shifted forward in his chair until his elbows came to rest upon the console. “What’s your take on Hook?”

“Johnny on the spot,” Yuri answered. “Been really helpful. I mean, from what I know he usually is, but right now? Could just be nerves about what’s coming, but he’s going all kinds of out of his way to make sure we’re square.”

“You know he’s tangled up in all this, right?”

“Had my suspicions,” the mechanic replied. “When the captain said there’d been a scrap and a killing, didn’t take long for the two plus two. Did he say why?”

With a tilt of his head, Rex said, “Sorta. We all got demons. Hook let his out to play wrong place, wrong time. Now these bikers got the kid, and they’re expectin’ us to just trade him off for her.”

“Which we’re not doing.”

“No.” The older man paused, his eyes adrift as he lost himself to his thoughts. “Ever tangle with gangs, Yuri?”

“When I was a kid.”

“Only reason I’m telling you all this is that we need cool heads on the line.” Rex’s eyes landed squarely upon the mechanic. “I got no worries about the doc. But Edina…she gets a whiff of the real stakes and things could twist up fast.”

“I’m not following,” Yuri’s brow furrowed.

“Simple math,” Rex said. “You hit a gang for one, they’re gonna hit you back for two.” A silence fell over the cockpit as both men considered the unthinkable.

Finally, Yuri looked up from his open hands. “So,” he slowly asked, “if they’ve already taken one from us, how do we stop them from killing the second?”

Rex turned in his chair to face the forward viewports. “I’ve got a plan.”

“What is it?”

“Best you don’t know.”

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Happy Father's Day from the cargo bay!

We'll start by welcoming @Theyra and their character Yijun Xun to the game! Yijun's CS is posted.

We have a couple other prospects who're likely to join us after China Doll lands on Osiris. To Theyra and those prospects, sorry we're running a bit behind our estimates. FF2V is a game for adults who're frequently pulled away by all those RL responsibilities. We're eager to have you on board, and are making all speed to wrap the current episode.

Speaking of which, things are looking grim for the crew of China Doll. Cal's got her running flat out to make a delivery time in one of Osiris' infamous "blackout zones." Rex and S.A.M.A.N.T.H.A. have been poring over whatever data the AI can secure to even their odds during the confrontation to come. In the cargo bay, Hook offered weapons training to both Edina and Yuri. Alana made an important discovery about the true nature of their cargo. Meanwhile, Abby's survival is hanging by a thread in the hands of the outlaw bike gang Headhunters M.C.

You're all submitting excellent writing in the climax JP doc, which we hope to have finished in the coming week. Game time is Flight Day 3. There will be a Day 4, Landing Day, to set the climax. We're currently aware of a couple Day 3 posts in the offing, as well as some pre landing business for both China Doll and the Headhunters.

We've said it before, but it bears saying again. If you've got a character subplot that needs time or help to develop, by all means feel free to share your thoughts with Wolf and myself. We're glad to help.

But now, it's Sunday. Hope you all have a good day ahead. As it's Father's Day, I'm told that my offspring are hanging at the house this afternoon, the end result usually being grilled meat and strong drink.

Write When It's Fun,

sail

Firefly - Second 'Verse

The Perils of Abigail Travis, Part 4 - “And Lido Makes Three”

”Please make it a dream,” Abby begged as Lido positioned hisself to take ‘er. Her mind near spun outta control ‘til she found ‘erself hangin’ on a pair ‘o’ voices. First come tha spy from Uncle Bob’s captures.

”...when they think they’ve won, that’s your opportune moment…”

”Here’s how it is.” She could hear Cap’n’s voice next, that no nonsense way he had fer spellin’ out troubles an’ makin’ direct moves. ”Abigail, when a man starts thinkin’ with...other parts, his brainpan empties right out. True that you’re blind, but you don’t need eyes. You know right where he’s at…

“Oh! Aaaabby! What a sweet little pi gu!” Lido exclaimed.

”...you know right where he’s at…” She took quick stock ‘o’ the moment. Lido had her bent over tha table. Her hands was still bound behind ‘er back. One ‘o’ his was holdin’ ‘er down while t’other had a grip on ‘er unders. That awful part ‘o’ him what nudged her hip come proof positive Cap’n was tellin’ true.

”... right where he’s at…”

”...Your opportune moment…”

Ever’ bit ‘o’ Abby’s terror and rage welled inta tha mule kick she sent up twixt his legs. AAAUUUUUGH!” Lido collapsed backward, cupping exposed genitals paid a forceful visit by the girl’s heel. A deep, sorrowful moan escaped his lips as he fell to the deck.

Now’s ‘er chance. Abby rolled onta her back, kicked ‘er legs in tha air, and bent forward til she could work her wrists under her bottom. Movin’ quick, she bent one leg at a time tah get ‘em free of ‘er arms. Lido’s still moanin’ somethin’ fierce as she reached up an’ tore the bag from ‘er head. “You sumbitch,” the deckhand swore as she searched for his knife. And there it was, layin’ on tha table…right alongside a sawed off pump shotgun.

Holdin’ that blade near back’ards tah saw through tha zip tie was a might cumbersome and took way too long. Time she freed ‘er hands, Lido’s risin to his feet, fat old body in a half squat as he reached out tah pul hisself up. “YOU SUMBITCH!!!” the girl raged as she landed one more vicious kick tah tha fam’ly jewels.

Lido went down again, fresh agony curling him into a ball. “No,” it’s his turn tah whimper as Abby hefted the shotgun. “No…please…COTTONM…!” His cries for help silenced as the girl delivered a knockout blow with the gun’s handgrip.

Abby looked down on ‘im, her chest heavin’ as she fought fer control. She jest wanted tah kick him an’ keep on kickin’. “An that Cottonmouth, too,” her voice quavered as she give the weapon a one handed pump. They had tah heard tha commotion in here…they’s only seconds til they come bustin’ in. She hauled ‘er unders back up an’ slid tha door open, seein’ fer tha first time a corridor. Starboard side, the girl conjured at sight of viewports on the opposite bulkhead.

She’d jest turned an’ started forward when her way’s blocked with a bunch ‘o’ bikers. “Keep back!” Abby snarled as the shotgun come up.

“Hey!” one of the Headhunters smirked as they pulled knives on the near naked hostage. “Look what’s for supper!”

Cottonmouth stood at their van, his knife at the ready. “Kid, you might get one shot, but what we do after that’s ten times worse than you’ve ever had.”

She conjured that’s true. Close as they was, she’d not get a second pump afore they’s on ‘er with them knives. “So what yer sayin’ is I’d best make it count.” With a defiant lift of ‘er chin, Abby swung tha shotgun, one hand on tha grip as the muzzle touched tha viewport. Felt good watchin’ all them smirks become eyes wide an’ mouths hangin’ open.

“No no no no no!” Cottonmouth’s empty hand rose in a cautionary wave. “You do that and we’re all dead!”

“Instead ‘o’ jest me, huh?” she demanded. “Now it’s MY turn tah ask questions. Where’s my boat?”

“I don’t know.”

“My arm’s gettin’ powerful tired!” Abby warned.

“I DON’T KNOW!” Cottonmouth shouted.

“Whoa…WHOA!” Gang members turned at the command to see the MC president and his top lieutenant. “Put ‘em away,” Root gestured toward the knives. “Make a hole.” Folllwed by Nips, he stepped through the opening his gang provided. His first look at the girl Abby was a pitiful sight. There were bruises on her arms and legs, and a wicked bootheel mark between her breasts. Her face was a range of sickly hues with a puff to her lips and one eye swollen shut. Yet here she was, her presence both a reminder and a warning. “Did you kill Lido?” he asked in quiet tone.

“He’s breathin’,” Abby scowled at the gang leader. “Where’s muh boat?”

“Headin’ for Osiris,” Root answered. “We’re set to meet them tomorrow night.”

“So yew can gun ‘em all down, I conjure,” she spat.

Root shook his head. “Not if we don’t have to. Only one of your crew we want…the dark skinned one who killed one of ours. Blood for blood, kid.”

“Usin’ me as some sorta blackmail? Lettin’ yer crew beat on me an’ try tah…” Abby loosed a single, gaspin’ sob afore finishin’, “take everythin’ from me as some kinda down payment?”

“Not what I wanted,” he said. “But necessary. I wasn’t about to lose more of mine to a boat full of pissed off gun hands. Only person who made your life so tough here was you, kid.”

“Yah need more gas fer them lights,” she retorted.

“But,” Nips gave an appreciative nod. “She didn’t rat.”

Root met his lieutenant’s eye. “No, she didn’t,” he spoke as unvoiced meaning passed between them. “You didn’t rat on your crew, kid,” he lifted a hand to his heart. “Respect,” He watched the blow strike the back of Abby’s head. As she collapsed, the shotgun was snatched from mid air by her stealthy assailant. “Nice work, Mouse.”

The petite woman ejected the round. “What you want done with her?” She nudged the hostage’s limp form with the toe of her boot.

“C-mouth,” Root ordered, “go check on Lido. So Nips,” he regarded the woman, “not that I’m counting, but wasn’t Lido number three?”

Nips held four fingers aloft. “Four,” she offered a tight smile. “If you count Cottonmouth givin’ her the business. With three paybacks.”

“Damn,” he shook his head, a wry smile forming.

“Should we space her?” Mouse asked.

The president chuckled. “Nips,” he said, “You got this.” The unspoken command issued, he turned to make his way forward to the table room. “Three paybacks,” Root laughed quietly to himself as he strode away.

Firefly - Second 'Verse

The Perils of Abigail Travis - Part 3: “Lido”

After Nips slapped her around a bit, they let her be. She weren’t sure how long…long enough tah feel arms an’ legs tryna grow stiff from reg’lar pummelin’s. Also long enough fer her tah seek out that glass ‘o’ water, fer which searchin’ with a bag over ‘er head done knocked it over. By the time they took wise, she’s crawlin’ about ‘neath tha table, soppin’ up spilt water tah suck through tha bag. Tha PB an’ J was a lost cause; when they caught ‘er, it got hauled off after they strapped ‘er back down tah tha mattress.

Sometimes she dozed. Sometimes she dreamed. Alana, laughin’ as she taught her how to walk in heels. Hook, tellin’ ‘er what’s fer supper as they put their backs inta shovin’ a big crate around. Tradin’ jokes with Cap’n. And Thomas, holdin’ her tight as they shared their last kiss.

The door creaked open an’ she’s wide awake. Didn’t sound like Cottonmouth this time. The clop-cloppin’ of them bootheels was lots heavier. She listened as the fella set somethin’ metal on tha table didn’t sound like no dinner plate.. “Aaaabby,” his voice come all slow an’ sing-song as he trod closer, “how many gun hands are on China Doll?”

“One less since yah took me.”

The new fella give a good natured laugh. “Well, you ain’t lyin’,” he chuckled. “I’ll see your truth and raise ye one.” She heard tha sound, a clean metallic nick of a blade comin’ unsheathed. “Ever heard the old saying ‘last house on the block?” he asked. Abby felt the mattress shift as his knee come down on it. “Well, little one, you’re there…in my house. They call me Lido,” he purred like a big cat, “and I’m the last thing standing ‘tween your sweet little behind and the airlock.” She could feel ‘im, the presence of the man as he leaned close over her. “Aaaabby, you’re off to a good start with a piece of truth and a little bit of funny, so let me ask you again. How many gun hands on China Doll?”

“Got a few.”

“Not so funny.” His hand was rough as he whipped ‘er onto her back. Then he’s at ‘er clothes, haunlin’ ‘er tee shirt up tah git a grip at tha bottom. Fer a second, he laid cold steel upon tha flat of ‘er belly. “Aaaabby,” Lido whispered through tha bag, “I’ve got a simple rule. ‘Take a tool out,’ he said as the blade’s flat side prodded ‘er, ‘don’t put it back ‘til it’s been used. So I gotta cut somethin’, right? I swear it’s a di-lemma, seein’ only cloth or skin at hand. And, oh, this skin.” His hand touched her, palm down on ‘er navel as fingers felt their way about. “A few bruises, but fair and smooth.” She felt them fingers workin’ their way up. “What do you think I should cut?”

Abby’s breathin’ started goin’ all raggedy as this man’s touch moved onta her ribs like a cancer. “This b-bag,” she stammered. “Cut it off muh head.”

That cheerful laugh again. “Don’t think so,” Lido replied, “in light of I heard Cottonmouth uglied your face right up. I can’t bear to look upon such ugliness,” he pulled both the hand and his knife from restin’ on ‘er belly, “when there’s so much pretty down here.” All sudden like come a quick rippin’ sound an’ a rush of cool air as his knife sliced her tee shirt open from belt to collar.

Next few minutes felt like hours. Lido shoved Abby face down as he cut tha rest of ‘er shirt away. She tried strugglin’ when he threw hisself on top ‘er, a fight what ended with the hasp ‘o’ his knife knockin’ her in tha temple. She felt his hands on ‘er an’ wanted tah scream.

“Tell me the name of your friend,” Lido hissed in one ear as he tugged at ‘er belt buckle, “the one who killed our brother Lip.”

“Don’t know,” she’s nearabout whimperin’ as ‘er denims was pulled off. As ‘er brain fought panic, her spy started talkin’ again.

”...it’s a cruel truth that captured female spies are at risk of being raped…”

He flipped her onta her side. She could feel ‘er heart racin’ while he’s runnin’ a hand up her legs. “Aaaabby,” Lido near sang ‘er name as the knife joined in, snakin’ it’s way up. “You’re lyyyying.” Quick shift ‘o’ the blade an’ cold air raisin’ goosebumps on her bosoms tole her he’d jest cut her bra clean away. “Oh!” Lido heaved an appreciative sigh. “You’re a pretty one! Look how you’re budding out!”

Ohgodohgodohgodohgod jset ‘bout erased all her thinkin’ as his hands took their liberties. “Please, mister,” Abby now wept.

Lido was all over her fer a spell, til one arm wrapped ‘er waist an’ hauled ‘er up on ‘er feet. “Aaaabby,” he’s near laughin’ as he pushed ‘er forward. “How many gun hands?”

She felt ‘er thighs bump tha table. A rough hand bent ‘er over, pressin’ down hard amid her shoulder blades. “Ten!” she sobbed. “They’s ten. Couple right gunslingers among ‘em, too! Jean-Ann Cuthbert…an’ Blackjack Bob O’Halleran!”

Lido had the sort of a laugh would normally cheer folk right up. They’s a music to it could make a body want tah hear it more. But fer Abby, that good natured mirth comin’ as he’s ‘bout tah take tha one thing she had left made it right horrifyin’. “Ohhh Aaaabby,” he laughed as he set the knife down, “everybody knows Blackjack Bob’s dead, but nice try!”

“I’ll tell yah…I promise….I promise!” the girl cried as he used a boot to kick ‘er legs open.

“Too late! Now I got a new question,” Lido’s voice come silky smooth. “How many men you had, Aaaabby?”

“No…NO!! NO!!” she screamed in a way sounded feral. She heard the zipper, felt him workin’ hisself out afore he moved to pull her unders down. Terror…stark cold terror shook her to the core where a rage was kindlin’ all white hot. “NOOOO!” she wailed as Lido’s fingers hooked the waistband.

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Happy Monday, folks. Once again, Wolf and I have exercised our godlike powers and moved time forward. It is now day 3 of China Doll's flight to Osiris. You'll find a story note, and the last Day 2 post, "Growing The Business."

Happy posting! WWIF.

sail

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Story Note

TIME SKIP: It is now Day 3 of China Doll's flight to Osiris. An anxious crew prepares for an encounter with the Headhunters MC.
Hook has been diligent in his teachings to both Edina Wyman and Yuri Antonov. S.A.M.A.N.T.H.A. has fed a steady stream of information to Cal and Rex.

The Captain is struggling with the best way to preserve the lives of his crew. His First Mate is thinking of other options.

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Growing The Business

“We’ve come to an agreement.” The screen revealed Ellsbeth, seated next to Hafez. The crime lord’s subdued countenance was a giveaway in and of itself; clearly, the overly generous and deferential Hafez was nowhere to be seen. “From this moment forward, Headhunters M.C. will manage not only all distribution, but operational security as well.”

Shiny, Root traded glances with the lieutenants at his table. Maybe too shiny, he thought. “I get distribution,” he replied, “but when I hear ‘operational security,’ I have questions.”

“We’ll grow into the job,” his mother responded.

Hafez cleared his throat. “I understand that you’re en route to Osiris?”

“That’s right.”

The impeccably dressed man nodded. “As a gesture of my good faith, I’ve made arrangements with our buyer in Capital City. The China Doll shall be paid her agreed rate upon delivery, which is roughly one sixth our previously agreed price. While on planet you shall receive the balance to share with your local agents per usual. With the supply chain reestablished I’ve no doubt we shall proceed without interruption.”

Root attempted a friendly smile. “That works for us. Glad to put all this behind us.”

Hafez delivered a formal half bow to the capture. “I too am pleased for our new understanding and partnership. There is just one favor that I might ask at this juncture? A good faith gesture on your part?”

The M.C. president maintained his poker face. “What’s that?”

“I’m told you have a guest aboard,” the drug king said casually. “A young woman from China Doll’s crew?”

“That we do.”

“By any chance,” Nadal’s features darkened slightly, “is her name ‘Penelope?”

Nips drew a breath to speak, but a tap to her calf cued her to silence. “We’re not sure,” Root spoke instead. “She hasn’t given us her name.”

On the screen, Hafez nodded as he digested the answer. “As I thought. She’s a gifted pilot who possesses a tendency toward stubbornness.”

“So what can we do for you?”

“Simply put, deliver her safely back to her crew on Osiris. I’d consider that a very kind gesture to cement our improved relationship.”

Root appeared to be in thought, visibly weighing his options as silence descended. After a moment’s consideration, he lifted his eyes. “We can do that,” he fixed the capture with a narrow smile. “Your Penelope is safe with us.”

“Very good,” Hafez nodded slowly. “When you return to Greenleaf, I shall arrange a celebratory dinner for your organization.” He smiled. “What better way to launch our new association than with food and drink?”

The biker chief and his lieutenants offered smiles all around. “We wouldn’t miss it.”

“Safe journey, my friend.”

“Mom, send me a wave...” Root attempted until the screen winked black before him. “Well?” he eyed his underlings. ‘Whatcha think?”

Cheesedick’s jaw was swollen and bruised, but his brothers’ attempt at relocating it proved successful. “Distribution’s decent,” he offered. “We know that Hafez supplies a half dozen planets. Schedule those runs right, we could handle with the Angel and maybe one more boat.”

“A Firefly?” Root shared a meaningful glance with Nips.

“Sure.” The lieutenant pressed the icepack to his jaw. “All the classes have enough hold space. You can run ‘em with a crew of three plus gun hands.”

“C-mouth?”

The enforcer propped elbows on the table. “Sounds right,” he shrugged. “Hafez deals in the Central planets. High credit, low piracy risk. We’d put just enough muscle on both boats to handle trouble, but with those routes patrolled like they are? You’re gonna be dropping more coin for bribes than bullets.”

“Yeah.” The M.C. President folded his arms. “I like those margins.”

Nips spoke up. “What happens to the kid? We delivering her safe and sound?”

“Is her name Penelope?”

“Calls herself Abby.”

Root’s gaze softened. “How’s your ear, hon?”

“Nothing they can’t reattach on Osiris,” Nips answered. “I’m just glad she didn’t swallow.”

The chief yawned and stretched in his chair at the table’s head. “Here’s how I conjure it. Hafez wants us to deliver ‘Penelope’ safe and sound. We ain’t got a Penelope.” His eyes swept the table. “What we got’s a pain in our pi gu who’s racked up two of my lieutenants. Now,” he gestured toward the screen, “what she’s got to tell us ain’t worth a bucket ‘o’ cold spit.” Root’s eye traveled to Cottonmouth. “She’s not a bargaining chip with anyone who matters. That makes her our option.”

“I’d still like to know how many trigger fingers are on China Doll,” Cottonmouth said.

“Alright,” Root lit a cigarette. “Give her to Lido.”

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Thanks and no problem. When I read that, I took it as Hook giving her the same reaffirmation for the very different weapon she has to handle.

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Edina: "Nope...nope...nope...okay."

Firefly - Second 'Verse

The Perils of Abigail Travis, Part 2 - “Good Cop”

Headhunters MC artwork supplied by @wanderingwolf


She hurt all over. Didn’t seem like nothin’s broke, but ‘er whole body ached from the last poundin’. Some woman…’Nips’...done put a stop tah things awhile back. And so here she was, all pulled up into a ball on a mattress smelt ‘o’ piss. Skin on ‘er face was all tight feelin’ and what’s underneath throbbed an’ throbbed. But pain was pain. Can’t work a boat all yer life an’ not get somethin’ all clocked an’ swole up.

Worst part was that bag the put over her head. Not so much itself, though burlap is powerful itchy after a spell. For Abby, the thing was tha bag’s meanin’. They took the sight from ‘er, an’ left her alone, tied down to a mattress. Layin’ there as she was, weren’t nothin’ left but for her thinkin’...wonderin’ ‘bout what comes next. Were they gon’ beat ‘er some more? Mabbe rape ‘er? Worse?

“Cap’n ain’t gon’ let that happen.” She whispered them words. They give ‘er no comfort, ‘cept fer jest knowin’ she weren’t all lost inside herself. I’m still here, some little part ‘o’ her spoke, and Cap’n is comin’ for me. I conjure Pen’s got them throttles pushed so hard they’ll surely bend. Pen’s comin’, she tole herself as tears took their hold upon ‘er. Pen’s comin’...

Each sob got ‘er that much angrier. Abby weren’t one fer cryin’. Time she got all teary eyed with Cap’n over a poor bargain she struck still chapped ‘er hide a skosh. But now she couldn’t see, she had no sense ‘o’ time passed, an’ whatever this boat was, it’s full ‘o’ folk don’t do nothin’ but hurt ‘er. Fer what they done so far an’ what that Root fella said about Hook, she had a fair notion they’s gon’ kill ‘er when they got what they wanted. Two for one, Uncle Bob once tole her how gangs worked their paybacks. And that just brung more tears.

Sound ‘o’ that door comin’ open made ‘er stiffen up. She could hear one pair ‘o’ boot heels walkin’ the deck. A clink to the table tole her somethin’ got put down, and then, them boot heels come right up behind her. Abby braced ‘erself, whether for a blow or tah be snatched up an’ tossed into tha chair, she couldn’t conjure. What she never woulda thunk was what happened next. A hand touched her, layin’ gentle upon her shoulder.

“Hey kid.” It’s that woman, her they called Nips. “How you keepin’?”

“Tolerable.” She cursed ‘erself fer tha tremor in ‘er voice.

“I brought you some food,” the voice said, “and something to drink. That sound good to you?”

Yeah, that sounded real good. Good enough tah milk a few more tears. “I gotta pee,” Abby replied.

“Let me help you.” She felt hands at ‘er belt, then her denims an’ unders bein’ tugged down to tha knees. “Sorry,” Nips said as she boosted Abby up. “You gotta use a bucket.” Once the business was done, her clothes was hauled back up afore she’s guided all gentle like inta tha chair. Hands come down on either side ‘er head, and for the first time in she didn’t kin how long, she’s freed from that gorram bag.

She knew ‘er face was all wet, good eye red from cryin’ and the rest one big bruise under hair gone wild, but sight of a PB and J with a glass ‘o’ water struck away all sense ‘o’ shame. “Oh, thank yew,” Abby’s thirst set her tah wantin’ that water somethin’ fierce. “Can I have muh hands?”

“In just a minute.” The plate and glass were pulled across the table. “I just need your help with something.” The biker rested her hips against the table’s edge. “Your boat…China Doll,” she said. “How many gun hands do you carry?”

“What?” Abby looked up like this was crazy talk. “Why?”

“Look, kid,” she leaned forward, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. “I’m playing it straight with you. I only get a few minutes to get them what they want. Help me out,” she laid that gentle hand on Abby’s shoulder again, “and I can make the rest of this go easy for you. My name’s Rene. What’s yours?”

“Thought yer name was Nips.”

“That’s my club name,” the woman chuckled, gesturing toward her ample bosom. “Boys will be boys, right? You got a boyfriend?”

“Yeah,” the hostage gazed upon the distant food and water. “Name ‘o’ Cottonmouth. He don’t treat me right.”

“And that’s what I’m trying to stop,” Nips’ expression was earnest as she reached for a capture pic. “This guy,” she pointed toward Hook, “is who we want. You see that guy he’s punching? After the bouncers kicked them out, we found him dead in the alley. Your friend here turned his face into a chili bowl.” She let the picture hang before Abby’s eye. “Just give me a name. His, yours, I don’t care where you start.”

Abby shook her head. “Sorry. Don’t know ‘im.”

Nips folded her arms and sighed. “Don’t la shi me, kid. We saw him, loading our cargo on China Doll with another guy, a tall man who looked to be in charge.”

“I dunno. I’m jest a deckhand. They’s a dime a dozen. I conjure they didn’t see me come loadin’ time, Cap’n hired that fella off tha yard.”

“Cal Strand,” Nips interjected.

“Yeah.”

“What’s your name?”

“Why’s that matter?” She could hear tha spy from them capture vids talkin’.

”...your interrogators will shift tactics to build trust. A ‘good cop’ will offer food, drink, and kinder treatment. They’ll play upon your sympathies. The longer you resist, the longer you live…”

“Because you’ve got to give me something,” Nips gestured with open, beseeching palms. “If I don’t take them some scrap, some little thing to show progress, they’re gonna send Cottonmouth back in here, and mei mei, he is raring to go. No food, no water, no pee breaks,” she urged. “Just whatever he feels like doin’ to make you give up the guy who killed our brother!”

Abby’s body betrayed ‘er with a bout of deep, wracking sobs. “Don’t know ‘im,” her voice quavered as she bowed ‘er head. “Don’t know ‘im…”

The biker sighed in open disgust. “I’m wasting my time.” She straightened, her voice gone cold as she turned away. “Guess I’ll tell Cottonmouth you’re all his…”

“W-wait,” Abby wept. “Ple…please. Muh name,” she stammered all about as ‘er body spasmed, “Abby. Name’s Abby.”

“And what’s his name?” Nips demanded. “SAY IT!”

The girl’s hair hung down, hidin’ her face as she slumped forward. Twixt tha sobbin’ an’ her havin’ trouble speakin, tha answer come out as a tiny little squeak of a whisper.

“What was that, Abby?” Nips asked, her voice resuming gentleness as she leaned in. “Would you say it again?”

“It’s…h..h..hard,” the deckhand cried. “Hard tah…tell it…”

The interrogator draped an arm over the girl’s heaving shoulders. “It’s alright. It’s alright,” she soothed. “All you have to do is whisper it,” her own voice dropped to a sisterly affection. Nips drew closer. “Just whisper his name into my ear, Abby. That’s all you’ve gotta do…AAAAAAAAGH!” She jerked away, driven by reflex as she landed a punch to Abby’s ribs. Nips staggered backward, a hand cupping her ear. ”Làn xiǎo biǎo zi!” The woman hiked a leg, landing a kick to Abby’s chest that sent both hostage and chair tumbling backward. “My ear!” she raged as blood from the wound seeped between her fingers. “MY FUCKIN’ EAR!”

Abby turnt ‘er head an’ spit out the lobe an’ earring piercin’. “Kin I have that food now?” she asked afore a fresh whuppin’ come rainin’ down.