sail3695

Firefly - Second 'Verse

The Unexpected Reckoning

OOC: S.A.M.A.N.T.H.A. appears courtesy of @wanderingwolf


So they’s helpin’ folk escape the slavers.

Abby could git behind such a notion, seein’s now she knew a thing or two ‘bout bein’ kidnapped an’ abused. Cap’n took off fer the cockpit, with that really perty lady…Quill…taggin’ along. Yuri collected Hook, an’ the pair of ‘em headed fer tha cargo bay to wait on the Cap’n. As tha cook walked past ‘er with ‘is cold shoulder up, the girl acted all indifferent…but she’s startin’ tah swap confusion fer jest bein’ straight up pissed off. I didn’t do nothin’ tah that sumbitch, she pondered as the rest, crew an’ passengers, all left the galley in ones an’ twos.

Soon enough, she’s all by herself. Order was fer her tah head fer her bunk, but the girl had tah wonder how layin’ around was gon’ heal bruises an’ cuts. She didn’t feel like sleepin’ none, anyway, what with Lido waitin’ in her dreams ever’ time she drifted off. ”Aaaabby,” she could hear that voice, feel ‘is hands touchin’ where nobody but she an’ Doc ever touched afore. Nah, sleep weren’t nothin’ she’s lookin’ tah do fer awhile, she considered.

‘Specially with such a job needs doin’. Fireflies like China Doll an’ Mariposa had lots ‘o’ little crawlspaces an’ hidey holes in ‘em. Most spacegoin’ boats was like that, double hulls what was like puttin’ a square peg in a round hole an’ then ignorin’ tha gaps. Mariposa had plenty. Even as a tiny girl, little Abigail Travis got right good at wedgin’ ‘erself inta all make ‘o’ nooks an’ crannies. Now, as she ticked off her fav’rite hidin’ places, she conjured that Abigail The Grownup best have a look-see, more tah make sure that “huge” places Abigail The Child played in was suitable fer hidin’ fully growed folk.

Bein’ up in tha galley as she was, Abby conjured ain’t nobody to fuss about bedrest if’n she took a look forward. Abby put ‘er empty bottle up fer tha recycle an’ padded on bare feet towards the cockpit an’ crew quarters. Best hidin’ places was in the ceilin’s. SInce crew all had hatches with down ladders, weren’t no problem tah pop a corridor panel ‘er two. She picked the starboard side, jest over what must be Yuri’s room. Panel catches come away easy enough, and in two shakes she’s crawlin’ on hands an’ knees inta the dark space. Mindful that any second Cap’n an’ Miss Quill could come down from the cockpit, she pulled tha panel shut behind her.

The place was black as pitch, a problem remedied by the glowin’ screen of ‘er cortex. She shone the light about, an’ found China Doll’s first space to be exactly what she ‘membered from her old boat. It was like an attic, structure beams, HVAC units, an’ power couplin’s leadin’ down inta tha various cabins. She couldn’t stand full height, but as she studied it she conjured five-six growed men could fit the space, easy peasy. “Shiny,” the girl muttered to herself.

She’s fixin’ tah leave when tha cortex buzzed in ‘er hand. Sure enough, it was Thomas.

Tjinks
I was worried sick about you! Sure you’re OK?

She took seat on the dusty decking, foldin’ legs underneath as she tapped out ‘er answer.

Abn8r
Everything’s shiny! Just sitting around.

Tjinks
Crabby? MY Crabby? Just sitting around? I don’t believe it.

That raised a smile, part cuz’ ‘o’ his joke, but also ‘cuz she found ‘erself mighty partial tah bein’ called “his Crabby.” Feelin’ made her glow a bit as ‘er thumbs tapped out a response.

Abn8r
Not by choice. Doc’s orders

Soon’s she hit ‘send’ on that she knowed she messed up.. Thomas didn’t miss a trick.

Tjinks
What? You get hurt again?

“Aw, la shi” she grumbled tah herself as she tried tah come up with tha right answer.

Abn8r
LOL, no bullet in my butt. Tripped on the stairs. Nothing broke, just a couple bruises.

Tjinks
Send me a pic. I miss your face.

“Gorrammit,” she cursed under her breath. This was gonna get tough.

Abn8r
I’m in a dark spot on the boat. Not good for pics.

Tjinks
That cortex has a flash.

Abn8r
I look like la shi right now.

Tjinks
Impossible. You’re too pretty on a bad day. Show me.

Abn8r
Thomas, I can’t.

She’d lied enough. Tah hang on an’ stonewall him just wasn’t in ‘er…but she really didn’t want tah go where this train was bound.

Tjinks
Abby, don’t hide from me. What’s going on?

Before she could talk ‘erself out of it, Abby snapped a capture of her face, bruises, swole up eye an’ all, which she sent to Thomas. She knew what’s gonna happen next.

Tjinks
WHO HIT YOU????

“Shit, shit, shit!” she muttered while tryna do damage control.

Abn8r
Nobody. Thomas, I’m fine. really.

Tjinks
I got brothers! I know a beatdown when I see one!

Tjinks
Was it that guy who talked la shi to you all the time? One you called Big’un?

Abn8r
No, grifters are long gone. Wasn’t anybody on the boat.

Abn8r
I’m safe Thomas. I promise I am.

She waited fer his reply, but screen just glowed back empty. After a couple years went by just sittin’ in that crawlspace, Abby’s cortex sounded an incoming message. “From Samantha?” she questioned as she tapped the line. “Hello?”

“Abigail,” the AI spoke in a crisp Boston accent. “You’ve got an inbound wave from Thomas Jinks on New Melbourne. I’ve routed it to the cockpit capture. Both Captain Strand and Quill Cassidy have left, so you should have ample privacy for your conversation with Mr. Jinks.”

“Oh,” Abby grunted. “Thanks.” She rose, wiped the dust off ‘er butt, an’ worked ‘er way back out tah the corridor. The cockpit was empty, but she could already see Thomas’ face on the screen as she stepped inside. He was furious. “Hello, Thomas,” Abby curled ‘erself inta the pilot’s chair, arms about ‘er knees as she let ‘im have ‘is say.

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Hey folks,

I owe you all a big apology. Travel and work have been pretty successful at keeping me away from posting and moving the plot here in FF2V, but life's about to slip back toward normal. I'm traveling Tue. and part of Wed., and will then be back in my plush, subterranean lair!

I appreciate your patience. However, the crew meeting ended with plenty of good ideas for folk to help out, so if you get a hankerin' to go do what's needed, make a fun post out of it! I mean, c'mon...Abby can't be the only one traipsin about buyin' blankets an' such...especially since doc grounded 'er for two whole days!

WWIF (or when you see cheap blankets,

sail

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Happy Sunday from the cargo bay!

Hope you're all having a great Labor Day weekend. I'm on the coast for another round of seafood, sand, and sun (when it appears.) Just a reminder that we'll resume Episode 4 - "Redemption Road," on Tuesday, when I'm effectively back in the world.

But don't let that stop you. We've just finished the crew meeting in the galley. Feel free to engage characters in conversation or make arrangements to help the Captain's plan. Abby, Edina, and Yuri are available for JP, though their writer's posting will be somewhat sporadic for the next couple days.

In the meantime, hope you and yours are enjoying summer's last hurrah.

WWIF,

sail

Seeking Literate Partners!

Interested. I'll PM.

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Happy Thursday from the cargo bay!

Everybody please check your PM's for an update and a couple questions.

Thanks!

sail

Firefly - Second 'Verse

In the winter of 2020/21, I was in the grips of a ferocious writer's block. Hadn't put two words together in months, a condition made worse by the crazed work environment at that time. It was @wanderingwolf who pulled me out of that funk, through a series of 1x1 RP's. He got my writer's synapses to fire once again, and the old enthusiasm returned. For that, I'm forever grateful.

I'm also grateful to him, and to all of you, for investing your energies into this little game we've put together. As Wolf and I laid down the foundations of Firefly - Second 'Verse, we honestly thought the game wouldn't grow beyond our latest 1x1 RP exercise. How wrong we were.

The past 14 months have been exciting, dramatic, frequently hilarious, and in many occasions, poignant. Watching the people who call China Doll their home form bonds and face challenges has inspired a very real sense of delight for Wolf and myself. On more than one occasion, we've thought to pinch ourselves over the characters and their talented writers who've chosen to come fly with us.

But at the end of the day, the wells from which we draw our creative resources are finite things, affected by all manner of external influence. Wolf's had an amazing year, with an exciting new job and increased workload/travel demands. While I hate the fact that Covid forced him to slow down and take stock, I'm also glad that he made a call which benefits his well being and, after a break to regenerate, will return him to us. Until he does, I'll continue writing "Backup Cal" while transferring as much load to Yuri Antonov as possible.

Wolf's hiatus and the coming Labor Day weekend have given me a couple ideas that I'll share with all of you through chat and PM. 'Til then, be sure to take the time to look after yourselves and your loved ones. And don't worry about China Doll. We've all got her covered.

Write When It's Fun,

sail

Firefly - Second 'Verse

”We’re Gonna Need A Bigger Galley.” - Part 4

Part 4 of a JP/collab from @Xandrya, @Herald, @PatientBean, @Gunther, @Theyra, @wanderingwolf, and @sail3695

“Best plan is for the slavers to have nothin’ to chase.” Cal strode into the galley, his bearing exuding confidence as he found the table’s head. “To tell it true, we got the start of a pretty solid plan, all thanks to Yuri’s pa.” In moments like these it almost seemed like he enjoyed playing cryptic. Judging by the furrowed brows and open confusion on several faces, Cal thought to pat himself on the back. ‘Cept for Abigail. Look on her face was like she caught wise but wasn’t about to rat him out.

“So our first mate here gave you the four-one-one on why we gotta get these folk out, “ the captain glanced about the table. “In a minute I’ll give you what we know about how. “First,” he brought the silver case to hand. With a skilful flip of the lid, Cal had a cigarette between two fingers and a match flaring without missing a beat. “I wanted all you passengers to conjure what’s about to happen. Now we mean to run this whole operation on the down low, but if somethin’ goes crawfishy, there could be a chance of some unpleasantness.”

He took a deep pull, filling his lungs with blessed smoke that soon expelled skyward. “Any passenger don’t want to be tied up with this, we totally get your meanin’. I’ll personally hand over your coin as you step off. But what the pretty lady said was true,” the captain tossed a smile toward Quill, “there’s work to be done, and good trouble to be faced. We’d be much obliged if any of you thought to pitch in for the good of these folk.”

“What do you need, Captain?” Edina’s voice broke in before any noticeable pause could settle over the room. Her serious countenance cracked just a bit at sight of Yuri’s smile.

“Got a few things to fetch,” Cal acknowledged the passenger. “Off the top of my head, I’m thinkin’ beddin’...pillows, blankets, an’ such…enough for forty souls.” Ignoring the quiet gasp, he continued, “when these people come, they're apt to have just the clothes on their backs, so we gotta have everything they need to handle a two day flight. Mayhaps soap, tooth brushes, towels an’ rags, things women need,” he looked past the females as he touched upon an uncomfortable topic. “Oh, almost forgot. Wheelbarrows. We need ten. The rougher they are, the better. Prefer to rent, but we’ll buy if we have to.” It was fairly obvious to all who sat at the table that Cal Strand was clearly enjoying playing with the building blocks of his latest caper. “Abigail,” his gaze fell upon the deckhand. “I conjure nobody knows better where to hide forty folk on a Firefly than a little bilge rat who grew up in one. That sound like a thing you can do?”

Abby grinned all wry back at Cal. “I’m yer rat, Cap’n.”

“Shiny,” he cast an affectionate eye toward the girl. “When I came in, Miss Imani was talkin’ about a plan and some practice. Good call, seein’s we’re about to have forty movin’ parts on this boat. Can I draft you for that?” he asked the woman.

"Happy to be of service..." she added with a reassuring nod. Imani then exchanged glances with the doctor who happened to be glancing 'er way. She stared right back, her expression neutral as if waiting for some sort of response, but none came.

Happy to be of service... Alana mocked the woman right back. Might as well grab his hand and skip on out the galley. She got they had new guests onboard, but if nothing else, they better hope they learn a thing or two in boundaries for their own sake, even if Imani helped him escape the bar with his life.

As it is with men, Cal was completely oblivious to the silent exchange. “Much obliged,” he gave Imani a grateful nod. “But here’s the thing. We can’t be drawin’ any interest in this. Somebody buyin’ forty pillows all at once is gonna raise eyebrows. Ones an’ twos, people,” he ordered. “Mr. Hooker,” the captain turned his eye upon the cook, “I know we just stocked you up pretty full for a short flight. Gonna have to stretch your pantry to feed all those extra mouths outta what we have, copy?”

“Roger that, Cap’n,” Joe responded. “Won’t be a problem.”

”Ku. You, me, and One Arm are headin’ into town in about an hour. No strappin’ this time,” he cautioned the cook, “as we’re like to step through detectors.” His gaze fell upon their new pilot. “Tommy Pearson? Cal Strand,” the captain introduced himself. “Heard you got two good votes to hire on as our new pilot, so welcome aboard. Way I see it, you an’ I need to have a sit down to talk about how we thread this needle on the way out. I’ll be up forward,” his head tilted toward the corridor and the cockpit at its’ end, “but give me a few ticks. I gotta speak with Miss Quill first.” After a brief glance toward the statuesque blonde, he concluded, “Now, Yuri here’s gonna tell you a joke. Give it a listen. Oh…one last thing,” China Doll’s captain said as he rose to his feet. Clapping a firm hand to Yuri’s shoulder, he asked, “would somebody make sure One-Arm here gets a good suit of clothes?”

Joe thought about what the captain said. He knew he never actually needed to carry the revolver, but he just felt so comfortable carrying it. It was like an additional appendage. But the captain is the Captain and he would do as he asked. In fact, since he was expecting to pass through a metal detector, he would insure he wasn’t carrying any of his knives either.

“Dibs.” Edina’s eyes sparkled with mirth as they met Yuri’s.

“This boat,” Cal found himself compelled to say, “runs a lotta stuff an’ folk about the ‘verse, some on the up an’ up, and some,” he shrugged, “a touch on the naughty side. There’s a whole world of grey out there, an’ we all have to navigate through it, walkin’ a tight rope between what’s right and and what it takes to get by. But this time,” he tapped an index finger on the table, “I see as clear as day what needs doin’, and I aim to get it done. I know its’ not your cause,” he met each person’s eyes in turn, “and I have no right to ask. Won’t be any big payoff,” Cal said, “and we won’t be makin’ history. All I can say is if we do right by these gentle folk, that’s forty lives to the good. May not move the needle for humankind, but we get to know that for once we had a hand in somethin’ right and true. I’m in your debt.” Cal turned, the cigarette pressed to his lips as he strode toward the cockpit.

As the captain’s bootheels echoed from the forward corridor, Yuri spoke up. “Here’s how we get them out. My father used to tell a joke from our homeland on Earth-That-Was. There was a worker at a tractor plant…”

Quill had to admit that everyone seemed on board with this plan. Even those who just joined. She wasn’t averse to helping, especially as it meant she would be able to stay on the ship until they reached their destination. As she eyed everyone moving around, speaking their mind on a matter of subjects, the Captain made it clear he wished to speak to her. She could only imagine what it was about. She gave him some time to speak to their new pilot before she stepped over to the side to allow the Captain to come talk to her. “You wanted to speak to me. Captain?”

“That I do,” Cal replied. “But in private. Let’s head for the cockpit.”

“...and that’s how it is,” Yuri finished summing up the plan. “Eddie and I are headed to watch that checkpoint for awhile this evening…”

“...and get you some decent clothes,” she smirked.

“...and get me some decent clothes. You’ve heard what we think we’re doing,” the first mate continued. “The best thing about having a plan is that you’ve got something to change. If you get an idea or see a problem, track me down, dohn mah? Captain or I may come around with a special job that needs doing. Meanwhile, if you’re headed out, try to pick up a couple things we talked about. Shiny?” After receiving answers from those disposed to speak, Yuri nodded. ”Ku. Let’s get to it.” As the crew all took to their feet, he held his place near the table’s head. They all seemed to take the plan pretty well, he thought, with some, Edina and Imani embracing their parts. He was certain the Doc would be called in, after more was learned.

And Hook. The role Cal had devised for the cook would make him essential. But as he viewed the man now, crudely shaven head and tormented eyes that darted away from contact, Yuri wondered if he was up to the strain. That call can wait, he decided. Let’s see how he handles our trip to the Underworld this afternoon.

After a couple hugs from Ms. Wyman, Abby come ‘round tha table. “Beg pardon…Yuri?”

The first mate regarded the woman child before him, her bruises and swelling on display for all to see. “I’m sorry, Abby,” he gave a weak smile. “I meant to pay you a visit before now.”

“Don’t matter none,” she shook ‘er head. “I got a couple ideas about hidin’ folk, but I need to do some crawlin’ about the boat…”

“Last I heard, Doc has you on two days’ bed rest.”

Abby fidgeted, her eyes droppin’. “I know…I know. But what I can tell, we’re gon’ start takin’ ‘em in tomorrah. Cap’n needs me…”

Yuri laid a hand on her shoulder. “Captain needs you to be healthy. I conjure over three days we’ll pull in between ten and fifteen a day. Cal knows his boat well enough to get the first day’s folk situated.”

The deckhand sighed, all discontented like. “I know…but I got a couple ideas…”

“Good ones, I’ll wager,” he replied. “Tell you what. Imani…that’s her right there…is working out plans for the boat…probably ways to get people hidden quickly if we get visitors. She’ll need to know the places you’ve got in mind. I’ll send her around to talk with you about your ideas. And you,” he gave her shoulder an affectionate squeeze, “get back in your bunk…pronto.”

“Yes, sir,” Abby said like a kid bein’ tole tah do somethin’ she din’ wanna. “Yah still bringin’ me Lucky?”

“Good reminder. This afternoon.”

“Shiny. Hey, I heard Doc’s takin’ yah to some kinda med center in tha mornin’? Tah gitcher arm mended?”

His smile returned. “Yes she is…and I’m ready now,” he said. “This cast is like dragging an anchor…”

“Think I could come?” Abby asked. “Mayhaps they could take away all muh bruisin’ an’ such? I’m powerful ugly right now…scarin’ grownups as it is. Would hate if any ‘o’ them’s we’re helpin’ is kids.”

In that moment, he wanted to comfort the girl, to let her know that bruised or unblemished, there was no finer sight for her shipmates than Abby’s presence at their table. His good arm looped over her shoulderblades, pulling her into the embrace he’d wanted to offer last night. “On a boat full of pretty women,” Yuri whispered, “none of them hold a candle to you.”

“Tell that to Ms. Wyman,” she grinned into the hug. “Y’all been smilin’ at each other alot.”

“Don’t tell anyone,” Yuri chuckled.

“Don’t hafta.”

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Posting error. Senility isn't for the faint of heart...

sail

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Happy Sunday from the cargo bay!

You guys are killing it in the JP. @Xandrya, I still laugh every time I read your latest. Cap'n's delivered his final pitch to get everybody on board with the latest caper. There are tags for Hook, Quill, and Tommy. Once everybody weighs in, we'll post the last installment of the crew meeting and spring into action.

By the way, Wolf's got the 'rona, and he's feeling pretty crummy. He'll write when he feels up to it, but in the meantime I've been helping him out with the Captain-y parts, and trying to shuffle as much onto Yuri as I can to take the load off. Get well soon, Wolf!

NOTE: If you've got a tag from Cal, you'll likely be forced to write with me, a pitiful substitute indeed.

Summer always seems to end too soon. Mrs. Sail is on the road Monday, and I'm a bachelor all the way through Thursday, so I'll be available and excited to get some additional writing in. Yuri, Edina, Abby, and Backup Cal will be available for JP's. Send me a wave and we'll get started.

I take off Friday to meet Mrs. on the coast for Labor Day weekend, followed by a week at the corporate mothership and its' usual time constraints.

I have to say that I really love seeing so much character growth and the relationship dynamics that are sprouting. Y'all rule.

WWIF,

sail

Firefly - Second 'Verse

”We’re Gonna Need A Bigger Galley.” - Part 3

Part 3 of a JP/collab from @Xandrya, @Herald, @PatientBean, @Gunther, @Theyra, and [@sail3695

Quill sat down, letting her hand fall. She observed the young girl, Abby was her name. She was very young. Quill wondered how long she had been on this ship. She couldn’t be more than 20, possibly younger. That left a weird feeling in her gut. “Pleasure to meet you Abby. Been on this ship long?”

Quill acknowledged that her appearance was…different than most of the others she had come across. She mentally chastised herself for not dressing a different way. If she was going to be on this ship, she would have to look differently. It wasn’t like she was working on this vessel. “Any idea what the meeting is for?” Quill assumed meetings like this were standard and that the others would be more aware of what is to be expected.

“Bout a year, give or take,” the deckhand answered. “She’s a good boat. Hope yah like ‘er, ma’am.” Abby weren’t one tah go readin’ inta folk’s mannerisms, but she could tell sight ‘o’ her done set off somethin’ behind tha perty lady’s eyes. [i]Shoulda put muh robe on,[i] she looked over both arms an’ legs. I look like a gorram dalmatian…

Next question come, an’ she conjured it tah be a good place fer explainin’ ‘erself. “No ma’am,” she shook ‘her head. “I been in muh bunk. Our doc…that’s her, right there,” she pointed toward Alana’s blond hair, “done put me on a couple days’ bed rest. Nothin’ serious,” Abby waved a hand at ‘er bruises. “Jest got banged up a skosh.”

Conversation fell silent as Yuri Antonov entered the galley. “Thanks for coming,” his glance swept over those seated at the table and the outliers standing about. “Captain’s on a long wave. He’ll join us soon as he can. In the meantime, he wanted me to fill you all in on a few things.”

The first mate took a seat next to the captain’s chair in the hopes that the last few passengers might join the table. “Long story short,” he began, “we received a little help last night from a nun, Sister Lyen Giu. I think her sect is called the Order of the Interverse, but don’t quote me.” He glanced about the table, eyes pausing upon Edina and the teenager sitting next to her. “She did us a great favor,” he resumed, “and now, the captain is more than happy to pay her back in kind. So here’s how it is.”

He rested his elbows upon the table, leaning forward to get to the heart of the matter. “Not certain if you know anything about Capital City’s blackout zone. If you do, sing out if I make a mistake. It’s a rough place,” Yuri continued, “a dumping ground for the poor, the physically or mentally challenged, former convicts…and even folk who make their prayers differently. Conditions inside are very harsh. The place is a ghetto. Disease, hunger, drugs, human trafficking…it’s all running wild in the blackout zone. Short of manning checkpoints to control day laborers coming and going, the Alliance pays it no heed beyond tossing in anyone who doesn’t fit the mold.”

The first mate dug inside one end of his cast, combatting an itch as he spoke. “The prime export of the Capital City blackout zone is slaves. Sister Lyen,” he spoke to a silent room, “does all she can to combat the practice, but since the slave trade is legal in the Alliance, she doesn’t get much support. And that,” he nodded his head, eyes moving to meet each person as he spoke, “is where we come in.”

He cleared his throat. “Sister’s been shepherding a group of folk who all share the same religious sect...Anabaptists, I think they’re called, but I could be wrong. I’m not a religious man,” he said. “These Anabaptists take “turn the other cheek” to a whole new level. They will not raise a hand in anger, and I’m told they view any servitude as fair and just. Knowing that, it’s pretty easy to conjure how that would make them perfect slaves. We know,” he continued, “that slavers are looking to scoop up the whole lot of ‘em…which doesn’t sit right with the captain. So we’re gonna help Sister Lyen get ‘em out.”

Edina’s eyes hadn’t left Yuri since he entered the galley. “Do we know how?” she asked.

He offered her a half smile. “We’ve got an idea,” the first mate replied, “but still have one or two kinks to work out.”

Quill took her eyes off of Abby as the first mate started speaking. She would address the young girl later. As Yuri spoke up about their future plans Quill grew concerned. She didn’t expect that in joining a Firefly she would be tasked with taking down slave traders. She wasn’t against those types getting what they deserved, but Quill glanced around the room they were in. Did they really expect this ragtag group of people to be able to provide help? Granted, Quill knew very little about her fellow shipmates.

“I can only speak for myself, but you lot on this ship know very little about me and the other passengers on here, at least the new ones. There’s also going to be a lot of work involved. I guess my question is…do you believe in this whole team being able to do this job?” She wasn’t sure if the Captain shared with Yuri what Quill did for a living. She could handle herself, but did they really trust a ship full of friends and strangers to suddenly all work together?

Doing right by her...only fair after last night.

Alana knew the drill, as much as she wouldn't like to admit. Quill, she believed her name to be, was right. A shipful composed of old and new faces would have to look past any differences to successfully make this work. Thus far she knew that wouldn't be an issue for the current crew, and Alana was hoping the same could be said of these strangers.

"I take it as long as there's a plan, there's a way." Alana wanted to be optimistic, if for no other reason than to make herself believe her own words.

Joe pondered the words the first officer was saying. He gave it some thought, but had too many questions. It did strike him as a futile endeavor or at the very least an endeavor that would bring some unnecessary heat down upon the China Doll.

“Is there anythin’ we can do to these slavers, tah discourage them from pursuin’ this group of Anabaptists?” Joe Hooker asked aloud. “If not, what kin we do tah protect them if the slavers decide they want to pursue us?”

She scratched the side of her head, right above the ear, then leaned on the counter to rest her chin on her open palm. The first mate had brought up unfamiliar business, business that seemed to be quite troublesome. But who was Imani if not someone used to being in the face of danger.

"A whole lotta plannin'. We run some of the most likely scenarios and prepare accordingly." She wasn't addressing the bald man, but merely thinking out loud.

...to be continued…