sail3695

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Prelaunch Hustle

For a moment, she’d seen something in Yuri’s eyes. A message unspoken, yet no less understood. Edina felt the pull of her own reaction, the urge to move toward him, toward something of which she didn’t quite grasp…but found herself wanting all the same. To understand a thing without actually thinking was strange and frightening territory for her, but instinct seemed to rule the day. As his arms opened, a part of her thinking mind dimly conjured what was about to happen, while the rest had already decided for her.

Then his cortex signaled.

She watched Yuri’s face as he listened, noted the serious nature of his eyes, the furrow to his brow as he turned away. In an instant, the here and now came crashing all around them as he announced Cal’s imminent danger. China Doll’s celebrations would have to wait; their rescue mission now faced a new and alarming chapter.

Now it was Yuri the First Mate before her, cooly decisive as he issued his orders. Abby was first to react, her response a characteristic “On it” before she dashed toward the cargo ramp.

Sight of the girl fired Edina into action. “Twenty-eight hidden up top,” she said to Quill and Hook. “If you’ll check on them, I’ll handle these twelve.”

<Tag Quill, Hook>

The cargo bay was alive with the clattering of bootheels on the catwalk steps and the slamming of hatches. The tortured screech of hydraulic driven metal forced her to shout her greeting to the final contingent of Anabaptists. “Hi, my name is Edina. We’re about to lift off. Kindly follow me and I’ll get you situated.”

These people were half starved and filthy, their faces painted with the bone weariness and perpetual stress of their suffering. Yet despite their trials, they proved unfailingly gracious. “Thank you, Sister Edina. Thank you,” they all managed but for one, a frail man who coughed into his sleeve as she hustled them through the aft hatch. She settled him first, strapping him into a chair of the medbay lounge. The blood on his lips, and the bright red stain upon his sleeve from his fits of coughing told their own dark tale. The wet lung, the woman realized. She’d get him to the doc as soon as they were in the black. Until then, her job was to make certain all of her charges were buttoned down tight before the boat spread its’ wings.

“The rest of you, come with me,” Edina said as the little procession made its’ way aft to the passenger rooms. As the precious seconds ticked down, she saw each of the remaining Anabaptists into the rooms where they’d find secure accommodation in either a bed or a harnessed side chair. “I’ll be around to check on you, once we’re away,” she promised each before making her way to the nearest intercom. “Lower deck passengers are secured.”

“Copy,” Yuri’s voice echoed in response.

After collecting a towel from the lav, she took her own seat, strapping in next to the pale, sickly little man. “I brought you this,” Edina offered the towel as China Doll began to shudder from the force of her atmo engines. “You see that hatch?” she pointed across the way. “That’s our medbay. We’ve got the best doctor in the ’verse,” Edina offered a reassuring smile. “Soon as the captain gives us the ‘all clear,’ I’ll take you to get fixed up.”

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Happy Sunday from the cargo bay!

Yes, I know. It's been a long, long time, and our little RP has nearly ground to a halt. Entirely on me, gang. My adulting schedule went right through the roof as we lurched into the new year. The good news is that wave of activity has crested and I'm looking at a much more sane springtime, with plenty of writing opportunities.

The bad news is that I decided to be fashionably late to the Covid party. Tested positive last Tuesday. Fortunately, I'm vaxxed and boosted, and my doc wasted no time in putting me on "the Pax." (You'll be happy to know that I haven't displayed any Reaver symptoms since.)

And so, I cranked out a post today for which I'll beg your tolerance. It's clearly been affected by Covid brain fog, but I think it gets everyone moving forward. Yuri's given orders and China Doll is about to lift off.

Look for a shipwide JP invite coming Monday or Tuesday. Til then, there are tags up that are purely optional. If you feel the inspiration, we'd love to hear your characters.

But for now, it's nap time. Write when it's fun!

sail, quarantined

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Freedom, or Frying Pan?

He’d failed them. Failed them all.

Yuri thought he’d considered everything, covered all the angles of this caper. The wheelbarrows and bricks. The privileged student volunteers. Removal of the tracking chips. But at the end, something as simple as a coughing fit up ended the entire scheme, and would now destroy the lives of his shipmates and their smuggled passengers. Hekubah’s triumphal rant barely touched upon his conscious mind, burdened as it was under suffocating guilt. One by one, he met the eyes of his shipmates. One by one, he silently mouthed the words. I’m sorry…

Edina held his gaze. The eyes that met his were softened, yet quietly defiant of her captors. “It’s shiny,” she whispered, her hushed response drowned by the din of the detective and soldiers. “We’re shiny.”

He still had most of his money. Maybe he could contact Lenny Booth, his slippery lawyer from Greenleaf. Mayhaps he could get Edina, Abby, and some of the crew cut loose on bail. A full confession on his part as bargain for slaps on the wrist for as many others as he could finagle…

And then came the miracle.

He could only gape at the sight of Quill Cassidy as she waded right in, flipping the Alliance raid on its’ collective ear with an unflappable air of self assurance. After a moment’s shouted denial, Detective Hekubah had been reduced to sputtering bile as a stoic Captain Kondo ordered their release. As his own cuffs snapped loose, Yuri caught the welcome sight of Edina, rubbing at her now liberated wrists, along with their shipmates.

Corporal Dunn hurried about, returning ident cards and other personal effects, as the first mate looked past the furious detective. “I take it,” he said, eyeing the folder in the captain’s hand, “that we’re free to go?”

“With our apologies for the inconvenience.” Hideki Kondo promptly offered the documents. “Sergeant,” he turned his head, “form them up. We’re returning to our garrison.”

“Yes, sir.”

“A word, Mr. Antonov,” Kondo whispered. He tucked hands behind his back, strolling slowly across the cargo deck as Yuri fell in at his side. “The documents your Ms. Cassidy so fortuitously secured do provide adequate legal protection for you and your crew. You’re free from any liabilities concerning those you’re carrying off planet.”

A relieved Yuri offered a nod. “That’s good news.”

“They do not, however, absolve Sister Lyen Giu of her alleged activities in the Blackout Zone. A warrant has been issued for her arrest.” Kondo halted, turning to meet the younger man with a steady gaze. “There are further complications. As we scanned your idents, certain individuals…Deborah Yo and Edina Wyman…were flagged.”

The surprise was evident on Yuri’s face. He’d never heard of Deborah Yo…but Edina? What official alert could she possibly trigger? “Oh?” he asked. “Why?”

“I’m not at liberty to divulge that,” the captain replied. “What I am able to tell you is that I’ve got a fairly busy schedule for the rest of today. Chances are that I won’t be able to file my operational report until later this evening.” From beneath the bill of his cap, Kondo’s eyes exuded meaning. “I hope you understand.”

“Yes,” the mate issued a solemn nod. “I do.”

“Bon voyage.”

………………………………………………..

Yuri watched them go. The cadre of soldiers moved in practiced order, climbing into their lorries as their captain took to the open topped staff shuttle. He gestured for Detective Hekubah to follow. The cop sullenly obeyed, stepping from China Doll’s cargo ramp onto the dusty asphalt of the docking berth. Antonov followed, more from a need to bar this man from ever coming back aboard than any logical reason he could suss. As he reached the foot, he saw the detective whirl before him, an infuriated scowl upon his face.

Yuri soon realized the police detective’s ire was directed beyond him. Quill stood at the top, her contented little smirk every bit of the cat that ate the canary. Yuri waited until the raiding party’s engines carried them away before heading up to join her, affectionate hands landing upon the woman’s shoulders as a broad grin blossomed on his face. “I don’t know how you pulled that off,” he laughed, “but as long as you’re aboard this boat I’m buying your drinks!”

<Tag Quill, crew>

Thanks to the mysterious, elegant passenger in their midsts, China Doll had dodged the bullet and could now get their precious human cargo away to safety. As he greeted a happily relieved crew, Yuri found himself thankful for Quill’s unforeseen providence. For the first time in a few days, Abby smiled as he congratulated her on her part. He delivered a back slapping hug to Hook, before Edina appeared. Her eyes shone gladdened welcome as he moved toward her. Though disheveled from her arrest, in this moment she had never been more beautiful. Yuri’s arms opened. He would kiss her right now. By god, if this wasn’t the right time, he didn’t know when…

His cortex chirped, the persistent S-O-S cadence S.A.M.A.N.T.H.A. would use for appropriately dire circumstances. The first mate abruptly stopped, annoyance flickering over his features as he pulled the little reader to his ear. “Sam?” He lifted a hand to still the happy voices around him. “Yes, they’re gone. What’s happening?” He turned, his profile toward the others as he listened to the AI’s response. “Where are they?...................................shiny,” he said. “Tell him we’re there in ten ticks.”

China Doll’s First Mate turned, pocketing the little device as he spoke. “Listen up!” he ordered. “Captain’s in a scrape. We’re skids up in five ticks. Hook, Quill, Edina, kindly get these new folks topside and make sure all our passengers are set for upthrust. Abby,” he faced the deckhand, “Rig this deck for flight. Tommy,” he gestured toward the pilot, “Spin ‘er up.” As the crew all made haste, Yuri stepped toward the tall newcomer. “Elias,” he looked up into piercing eyes wreathed by the man’s face covering, “we need a mechanic. If you want the job, it’s yours.”

<Tag Elias, crew>

Firefly - Second 'Verse

The Comeuppance

“Lies!” a visibly furious Detective Hekubah waved the pages in the woman’s face. Who was this…this...harpy, thinking she could tread upon his payday? “These are obvious forgeries!” the detective pitched them at the woman’s face. “I’m charging you with falsification of official documents and obstruction of a lawful police investigation! You there!” he bellowed toward the nearby soldiers. “Cuff her!”

“BELAY THAT!” Captain Kondo’s command echoed through the cargo bay. “Corporal Dunn,” the Alliance officer spoke in his customary tone, “With me.” The two made their way toward the confrontation. “I’d like to see those,” Kondo said of the papers scattered about the deck.

“Yes sir.” As the corporal hurried about collecting the pages, Hideki Kondo regarded the statuesque newcomer. ”Unfazed by the detective,” he observed. ”Aristocratic bearing, flawless diction. Confident of her position.”

His appraisal halted as the corporal provided the documents. Kondo read, quickly discerning the intent of each page. “Corporal Dunn,” he said as his eyes took in the final legalese. “Authenticate these, please.”

The corporal produced a hand scanner. As she referenced the hidden code watermarks, Kondo remained still, poised as Detective Hekubah persisted in ranting of a vile future for the woman. “Or perhaps I’ll send you into the Blackout Zone!” he blathered the threat. “Let you live in there until somebody gains permit for you!”

“Captain,” the corporal pocketed her device, “the documents are authentic.”

“No!” Hekubah bleated. “Your equipment is faulty!”

“I checked them twice, sir,” Corporal Dunn glanced toward her captain. “The doc codes are verified by Cap City Legal database, and Veronica St. Bartholemew’s office corroborates both her order and signature.”

The Captain’s gaze landed upon the hostage crew. “Release them,” he ordered. “The smuggled ones as well.” As both platoons set to work undoing handcuffs, their commander looked past the frothing detective to study their sanguine, graceful liberator. “Ms…Cassidy,” he recalled her offered name. “If you’ll permit an observation, your timing was impeccable.”

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Prison, Interrupted

The cuffs done bit ‘er again. Soldier give ‘er a smirk as he snapped ‘em on tight. “No more dolls for you, missy,” he whispered in ‘er ear. Well, leastways that little prank worked, fer what it’s worth.

She seen them new Anabaptists git hauled up out tha belly hatch bay. All like the rest, raggedy scarecrows gone gaunt in filthy togs what used tah be their Sunday finest. One by one, they’s scanned by a couple soldiers, each man jack of ‘em pingin’ positive by the chip still stuck in their shoulder. ”Dead to rights,” Abby conjured as that detective fella went on an’ on about how Yuri an’ tha crew was all gon’ be in orange jumpsuits afore sundown.

She read a couple books about life in a grey bar hotel. Weren’t none too kindly, she recollected, ‘specially if you’s a young woman. “Do yourself a favor,” the old convict, Bergitta, done told Maggie, the heroine in Behind The Iron Door. “Find a way to earn solitary. Make ‘em think you’re crazy. Young bits of pretty get raped by everyone…guards, inmates, even folk like shepherds and wardens. Make’em scared.”

She pondered that, jest how she’d go ‘bout scarin’ them as held guns, when deliverance come on tha wings of an angel. Tha angel herself could claim tha title without no fuss. Abby already knowed Quill Cassidy’s ‘bout tha pertiest woman she ever did see. But now, watchin’ her take on guards an’ wavin ‘ papers tah make that detective fella’s face go red, Abby seen somethin’ altogether diff’rent in how she handled ‘em. ”Like she’s a queen,” the girl conjured as she searched the four corners of ‘er brainpan for the word. ”Regal. That’s it. Regal.”

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Busted.

”It’s not the cockroach you see…it’s the hundred you don’t.”

If one were to make the inquiry, Captain Hideki Kondo would acknowledge that he did indeed spy a cockroach…two, in fact. The first was the matter of a discrepancy in the ident card of Dr. Lysanger’s patient. Deborah, if that was in fact her name, had raised a low level flag, not by particular incidents on her record, but rather the near absence of information it presented. However, seeing as the woman was clearly not a match for the members of the Anabaptist sect in the Detective’s warrant, the army captain chose to withhold this finding. Whether it was the fact that he found her quite attractive or his building distaste for Detective Hekubah would be a matter of little consequence. He studied the face on the woman’s ident card once again. Deborah Yo would warrant further investigation.

The second ‘cockroach’ was the detective himself. Though duty bound to follow his orders and honor the court issued search warrant to Hekubah’s satisfaction, certain mannerisms in the man’s behavior had begun to raise the hairs on the back of Kondo’s neck. The warrant did list these Anabaptists as unauthorized departures from Capital City’s Blackout Zone. There’s been some mutterings that while the slavers’ trade was a flourishing, permit driven business, certain members of the local P.D. had discovered profit in playing middle man, greasing the official wheels and offering their signatures as legal witness to those seeking the appropriate documents to swoop in and scoop up hordes of the teaming humanity for lives of servitude. There was money in it…good money, he’d been told.

And now, this cockroach was wailing, screeching his protests as all eyes were upon the red faced teenager and her personal stash of toys. “I’ve seen quite enough,” Kondo spoke authoritatively. “Sergeant, release the crew. Then assemble the unit for departure.” As Hekubah railed in the background, the captain handed the captured ident cards to China Doll’s first mate. “My sergeant will hand over other personal effects. We apologize for the inconvenience.”

“Thank you.” The man, Yuri Antonov by name, accepted the cards.

Kondo turned away as the mocha skinned woman they’d apprehended outside now rushed to comfort the fuming teenager. His eye fell upon Corporal Dunn. The woman was down upon one knee, head tilted curiously before the pallets of bricks they’d previously inspected. The look in her eyes was enough to draw him near. “Corporal?” he asked. “Did you find something?”

“I swear, sir,” she shook her head, “that I heard someone coughing.”

“Interesting,” the captain replied absently as he swung the tablet up once more. On his screen still glowed the schematic diagrams of a Firefly Class III vessel, complete with all known smugglers’ spaces denoted. He scrolled away from Abigail’s doll cache, his thumb moving the view across the open cargo deck space toward the center. There, according to the schematic, lay a belly hatch, a resealable hull opening hidden just under a meter below the cargo deck on which he stood. “There’s a void here,” Kondo said to his corporal. “Two meters by two meters by one meter. Not enough room for forty, he thought, still…

“First platoon!” Kondo shouted. “Corral the crew. Second platoon! On me!” As the orders reverberated through the cargo bay, a host of autorifles now trained upon China Doll’s crew. The clatter of boots echoed as Second platoon hastened to their captain’s side. “Surround these pallets,” Kondo barked.

Detective Hekubah scuttled over. “Did you find something?”

“Possibly. Sergeant!” Captain Kondo shouted. “Bring me the first mate.”

“Sir, yes sir!” the huge man replied as he clapped a hand upon Antonov’s shoulder. “You heard the captain…move. MOVE!”

With the sergeant’s sidearm emphasizing the point between his shoulder blades, Yuri wasted no time in hurrying before the captain and a now gloating detective. “What?” he asked. “I thought we were…”

“Open the belly hatch access,” Kondo ordered.

“But it’s got bricks stacked all over it…”

“OPEN THE GORRAM HATCH!” Hekubah tried to roar, but the timbre of his voice was that of an annoyed bleat.

“With all that weight,” Yuri’s voice was measured, “the hydraulics will blow right out. Let us take the bricks off…” The response came in the form of the sergeant’s pistol, clapping the side of his head as he tumbled to his knees.

“Open it,” Kondo’s tone was crisp. “Now.”

“Okay…shiny.” Antonov was sluggish as he rose to his feet. Then, with the glowering sergeant right on his heels, he made his reluctant way toward the little hatch control surface. After turning a large switch and slapping one of the two red buttons, the search party watched as the brick cargo rose a few inches above the deck. Suddenly, it divided right down the center, the halves now trundling left and right as hydraulics and metal whined under the load.

A dozen Anabaptist refugees, gaunt, pitiful scarecrows still in their traditional garb, blinked upward, into the muzzles of Alliance autorifles.

“Get them out of there,” Captain Kondo ordered. “Corporal, scan them for chips.”

Detective Hekubah had transformed. Where once was a desperate insecurity was now a vindicated ebullience. “I KNEW IT!” he rejoiced. “I KNEW IT!” In this triumph, the only taste that might’ve sweetened the moment would’ve been to find the boat’s captain, and especially so, that irritating nun. “Yuri Antonov,” Hekubah proclaimed, “you and your entire crew are bound by law for illegal human trafficking and unpermitted slave acquisition. You,” he couldn’t help grinning as the cuffs bit again into the first mate’s wrists, “are going away for a long, long time.”

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Happy Sunday from the cargo bay!

And here I am, apologizing once more for work eating my brain. To be honest, a big chunk of what was knocking my work/life balance has just been completed. It looks like there'll be waves off and on, but the coming week is way, way laid back! Time to write...

Thanks, everyone, for bearing with me. We'll get the police raid wrapped up in a hurry and move on to the climax.

Sail

PS: Hi, Psych! Great to see you again. Hope you're in a better place now.

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Busted?

“That one.” Detective Hekubah’s dander was up as he pointed toward another bulkhead plate. He knew those Anabaptists had to be stuck away somewhere on this old bucket. Every smuggler’s nook known to Law was being pried open, but for their trouble, they’d found a filthy rag, a few wore out air filters, and a dusty box full of nekkid pictures. Seemed even the great and powerful Alliance could be outfoxed by a little girl playing Hide and Seek.

The lower deck wasn’t panning out, either. All of the guest quarters had been tossed, with deck and wall plates pulled to reveal any hint of recent occupants, if not the occupants themselves. Likewise the lav, though most soldiers weren’t too fired up when it came to sniffing around toilets for stowaways. Nothing…zero.

Now, ‘cept for Doc Lysanger, Imani…beg pardon, “Deborah,” and two guards on the medbay hatch, China Doll and her resident shuttles were a ghost town. That is, except for the cargo bay, the current scene of Detective Hekubah’s mounting temper. The purple soldiers were getting bored, rustling all about the crew, who were still on their knees and cuffed. Naught to do but watch as First Mate Yuri and Deckhand Abby set to work on yet another panel. Using coffin wrenches, the pair rotated the catches, before lifting the heavy metal plate clear. Then two soldiers would kneel down, hand torches flicking over the inner hull beams. They’d look around a spell, then with faces almost betrayed them making sport of the detective, they’d shake their heads. “All clear, sir.”

“Nothing?” Hekubah demanded. “Nothing at all?”

“No, sir. Found some dust tracks, but they led to a fresh structural weld.”

Yuri spoke up. “That was me. Repaired a stress crack. It’s recorded in the engineering log…”

“Shut up!” the detective spat. “Do that one next!”

And so it went, panel for panel. On and on. Even the reserved Captain Kondo was beginning to display patience sorely tried. “Detective,” he finally said, “this is pointless. Unless they’ve found some ingenious method, there simply aren’t enough crannies aboard this boat to hide forty people.”

Hekubah whirled. “I know they’re here! I’ve got sources!”

“Perhaps your sources are mistaken?”

“No!” he cried. “You two!” Hekubah pointed toward a much smaller panel, right under the gaze of China Doll’s crew and the Alliance captain. “That one!”

“That one?” Abby’s face done gone all pale.

“Detective,” a tired Hideki Kondo consulted the diagrams on his pad. “This schematic says that recess is not a meter deep and barely half that measurement high. It’d hardly hold a child, let alone an adult…”

“Roger that,” Abby give an enthusiastic nod, ‘er eyes’ dartin’ away from ever’body. “Waste ‘o’ time…”

“Why don’t you want us to open that?” Hekubah seized upon her apparent guilt. “What’s in there that you don’t want us to see?”

Now her eyes was wide. “Nothin’...nothin’! Jest don’t wanna yank another panel…”

“Open it.”

“Aww, c’mon…” the girl balked.

“Abby…” Yuri cautioned.

“OPEN IT!!”

“Abby! Let’s go!” Yuri laid a hand upon her shoulder. “The last one..let’s do it.”

“I got it,” she done give up. “This’un’s hinged.” Now ever’body’s givin’ her tha eye. Abby dropped tah one knee, and pried beneath tha bottom with ‘er fingertips. Weren’t more’n a tick afore tha panel give way, swingin’ ap an’ clear on its’ hinges as a colorful glow come out tha openin’. Now tha jig’s up, Abby stood up an’ stepped back, her eyes closed as them purple bellies got a right good look.

The two soldiers squatted before the open space, but neither went for their torches. “Well, I’ll be a son of a bitch.” The hidey hole was all done up pretty, filled with lace bedding and pillows. A string of Noel lights swagged about the ceiling, their little multicolored lamps casting a cheerful glow upon the dozen or so doll babies that lounged on the bedding. Conjuring the culprit behind this caper was easy peasy, seeing as she’d written her name on the back wall in colorful chalk and glitter.

Abigail

Hekubah stood before the opening, a dumbfounded expression upon his face. One or two of the bored soldiers laughed, while others just smirked. Captain Kondo stifled a smile as he turned away. “Um…Abigail?” Yuri could barely keep his own mirth in check. “Care to explain?”

“I like doll babies.”

“Come again?” He placed a hand to his ear. Even some of the crew had smiles and loosed chuckles at the sight.

“I LIKE DOLLS!” the deckhand shouted. “WHAT?” She glared at Yuri, then seen all them smirks on ‘er shipmates’ faces. “SHUT UP!!!”

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Happy New Year from the cargo bay!

Wishing for each of you the best of health, prosperity, and happiness in 2023.

For the first time in ages, I've made a few New Year's Resolutions:

1. Reclaim the work-life balance. (All work and no play has made Dan a very, very dull boy.)
2. Dial down the snark (or at least, fine tune it. Wolf says he likes my snarky moments, so I should consider this a bit more.)
3. Read more. Happily, I found three books under the Christmas tree, so I'm on my way there.
4. Write more. I apologize for FF2V's pacing and opportunities suffering over the past few months, and I've already begun to reestablish pacing. (See #1.)

The current scene has each of you in handcuffs as the Feds assist the police in a search of the boat. I'm sorry that you're all currently in positions to only react and express individual thoughts, but we're right on the edge of our climax, and I will make certain your characters are free to handle their shipboard jobs during the coming week.

By the way, 3 cheers for @Xandrya! The Alana/Imani/Captain Kondo scene was entirely her concept, and though I haven't even told her this, what took place there has birthed the kernel of an ongoing subplot for future episodes. That's what I love about writing with all of you here.

When we created FF2V, Wolf and I decided upon an episodic approach, which allows for defined way points in the overall plot. Under that theory, he and I drive the overall story plot with each of the member writers contributing in a fashion befitting their characters and shipboard jobs. Coupled with everyone's preference for joint posting collaboration, this approach has worked really well for us in the past.

As I mentioned earlier, we're right on the edge of the episode's climax, so you can expect to receive invites for particular scenes in which your character might participate. After the individual scenes are written, Wolf and I edit them together into the overall climax. We had great success with this at the end of episode 2, when China Doll flew into a hurricane to rescue a shipwrecked Yuri. You can expect to receive JP/Collab invites during the coming week.

After that? Pelorum! The crew gets a well deserved break. During that time, your characters' personal plots will take precedence for the episode. Wolf and I will supply one or two central plot arcs, but for the most part, this episode is designed for personal character growth and rejuvenation. Seeing how quick fried Abigail's temperament is these days, I know that she could use the break.

Okay, it's noon. I cooked NYD breakfast, and now I have to clean the kitchen. Tonight's supper involves black eyed peas, a Southern tradition in which a dime is mixed into the bowl. The lucky person who discovers the dime in their black eyed peas will be the recipient of good fortune...or the Heimlich maneuver, possibly both. On that cheery note, I'll close for now.

Happy New Year,

Sail

Firefly - Second 'Verse

No Refugees, Just Rats

Edina, still disheveled from being face down in the dirt outside, was propped on her knees, the cuffs biting into her wrists. Alongside her was Tommy, the pilot, his composure intact as he watched the goings-on in the cargo bay. Elias, the tall, shrouded man with perpetually angry eyes, was knelt to her left. Just ahead were Hook and Abby, both silent as the grave, though Edina could spot the symptoms of the girl’s mounting anger with each baton blow landed upon their first mate.

Yuri had retaken his feet, standing before the detective…Hekubah. She couldn’t hear the man’s words, but the cheshire cat grin and smug lift of an eyebrow told the woman that he clearly believed he was holding all the cards. He was scrolling through the boat’s log in a lackadaisical style, not pausing long enough to ingest information, but more in the sense of conveying his overall importance to this operation.

She could hear bits of radio chatter, mainly from the com of the soldier tasked with guarding the crew. They haven’t found anyone, Edina suspected, the notion growing with each passing minute that the purple troops marauded through the upper deck. After a while, she noticed the smugness had left the detective’s face, replaced by a darkening shade of impatience.

When the commanding officer returned from his errand, Hekubah lost what little composure remained. “Impossible!” he raged. “Your men are incompetent! Did they follow my plans?”

“To the letter.” Edina could see the man’s eyes. This Alliance officer was clearly disgusted with the detective who called the shots, his contempt for the man barely concealed beneath the veneer of a professional soldier. “My senior sergeant personally double checked each hiding space. The upper deck is clear.”

“Alright then…start down here!” Hekubah blustered aloud. “What about the medical bay?”

“Checked it myself,” the officer removed two ident cards from his pocket. “It’s clear. Their doctor is conducting a surgery on a crewmember.” He handed the cards to a nearby soldier for scanning. “I’ve stationed men on the door.”

Edina watched as Hekubah whirled upon Yuri. “Were you that stupid?” he demanded. “You actually hid them all down here?”

“I guess I was that stupid,” Yuri chuckled before another baton blow sent him reeling.

“WHERE IS YOUR CAPTAIN?”

“I don’t know,” Yuri stammered as he regained his footing. “He might…”

“Aw, Kàn zài tā mā de fèn shàng” Abby raised ‘er voice afore glarin’ at tha guard what tried tah shut ‘er up. “Yah know gorram well where Cap’n is, Yuri. Stop coverin’!”

“Shut your mouth, deckhand,” Yuri’s tone went cold, until the detective signaled for another baton strike.

“I want to hear this,” Hekubah ordered. “Get her on her feet.” Yuri stared daggers as the guard hauled Abby up, nudging her forward with the barrel of his autorifle. “Now then, Miss…Travis,” the detective looked up from the crew roster. “Where is Captain Strand right now?”

Abby pushed ‘er shoulder blade back, stormclouds on ‘er brow fer tha guard what nuzzled her with ‘is gun. “Same place he is on ever’ day we break atmo.” She seen Yuri glarin’, an’ turned towards tha rest ‘em. “Come on! Y’all gon’ take a beat down ‘cuz Cap’n done gone fer a drink an’ a piece ‘o’ tail?”

“You’re saying he’s at a brothel?”

“It’s ‘is way,” tha deckhand said. “Even got a joke fer it. ‘It’s upthrust day! Gotta go thrust up!’ Never struck me funny.”

Hekubah traded glances with Captain Kondo. “Which brothel is he at, Miss Travis?”

“Got no idee,” she shook ‘er head. “Someplace cheap. He likes ‘em old. Says old whores laugh easy.”

The plainclothes hefted his cortex. “This is Hekubah, delta two-seven,” he said. “I need a BOLO for Calvin Strand, ship’s captain, CV China Doll, VR number 08-22946-L. Suspected whereabouts may be a local brothel. Remand for questioning.” He slipped the little device into his pocket. “Uncuff that one,” he gestured toward Abby. “Now we’re going to search all the usual smugglers’ pockets here on the cargo deck…beginning with that one,” Hekubah pointed toward a small bulkhead panel.

“Plates’er heavy,” the girl said as she’s cut loose. “Need a helper.”

“Very well,” the detective shrugged. “Him too.”

As the soldier removed his handcuffs, Yuri glowered at Abby. “You conjure,” he said bitterly, “soon as Cal hears how you ratted him out that you’re off his boat?”

“Yeah,” the girl bent tah her task. “I conjure.”