sail3695

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Happy Sunday from the cargo bay!

So, Wolf and I have been talking. When we started FF2V in 2021, we understood that our writers would all be adults with busy lives. At the time, we were just beginning to slowly emerge from the pandemic, and for many of us, the habits of quarantine were committed to muscle memory. Then the world came roaring back, and all of us found ourselves immersed once more in increasingly hectic schedules. So much so that it seems the only writing we could all share in over the past few months was a stream of apologies for our individual lapses.

And that, dear shipmates, is a violation of our one and only rule, “Write When It’s Fun.”

You’re all a conscientious, highly talented group of writers. As your hosts, the last thing we’d wish is knowing that you all feel badly about life pulling you away from our little game. With that in mind, we thought it was time to reach out to you all for your thoughts on the future of FF2V. We’ve had a few discussions, and settled on some possible options:

1. Sunset the game. “All good things…” The current episode sees us on Pelorum, which could serve as a “happily ever after” in and of itself. The freeform nature of this episode allows for characters to seek their own conclusions and stories. Under this option, you could write your ‘happily ever after’ or ‘bitter conclusion’ as you see fit from Pelorum. Or, for that matter, writers could simply choose to call a halt.

2. Hiatus. As spring and summer are typically much busier times for us all, this option would simply place FF2V on seasonal hiatus, beginning now and running through Labor Day ‘23.

3. Full shutdown. Right now, China Doll is flying toward the happiest place in the ‘verse. We could just leave it there, roll credits, and all head off to do our taxes.

4. Reboot. If we’d like to keep the band together, this offers us the option to consider new stories, characters, even a complete genre shift.

5. Keep Flying. Under the heading “Know Thyself,” I must admit that I still love Firefly and my characters have told me (one in no uncertain terms) that they still have things to say. If you decide you want to keep the boat in the black and participate when you’ve got time to enjoy, you and I can put our heads together and figure it out. However, such a call places no obligation on any shipmate, be they member writer or game host.

That’s what we’ve hashed out. What do you think?

Sail

Firefly - Second 'Verse

In My Own Good Time

If ya’s to ask ‘er right now, Abby’d say them Anabaptists was scads easier’n half their number ‘o’ college kids.

They knowed straight up she didn’t believe in none ‘o’ that stuff, but it didn’t matter none. They’s gracious an’ kindly, pickin’ up after theirselves an’ thankin’ China Doll’s crew fer every little courtesy. One of the womenfolk, called ‘erself Sister Melinda, even sewed the bullet rip in ‘er fav’rite work shirt. She used a piece ‘o’ floral print fer that part got blowed off, laid it in thin and smooth tah make damage look right purty when she’d gaze upon it in tha mirror. It was so nice havin’ ‘em that when they’s all dropped off on Bernadette, tha deckhand made sure their blankets an’ such was all clean, an’ that all the little girls had dolls tah take on their next adventure.

But them college kids? Abby weren’t one tah shǔ nobody out, but fer fuck’s sake! She couldn’t keep up with their folderol. Fer all their learnin’ an’ high talk tah make ‘er feel stupid, it’s like none ‘em was ever learned what trash cans was for. Most sure’s hell didn’t conjure carryin’ glasses an’ plates back tah tha galley. An’ tha lav. When they wasn’t humpin’ two an’ three at a time in tha showers, towels an’ rags was strewn all about, an’ she’d find commodes all filthy an’ unflushed…or clogged an’ overflowin’. If she didin’t conjure tha risk they run fer them Anabaptists, Abby mighta loosed a righteous tongue lashin’ on tha lot of ‘em by now. Only a day an’ a half, she kep tellin’ herself. Only a day and a half.

Mind yew, they wasn’t all bad. Christina, she who Abby done give up her room for, was kind hearted. She kep tah herself, closed up in tha deckhand’s tiny quarters with a handful ‘o books from tha passenger lounge. She said she’s a “Lit Major,” meanin’ someone who’s goin’ tah college jest tah read all kindsa books. Though Abby held ‘er tongue on that, Christina din’ talk down tah her, even talked lots with ‘er about the Mei Lin stories she’s readin’. Better still, she give ‘er a list of books she might like. One series was about a school fer young witches an’ wizards. Weren’t Abby’s usual stock, but stories she tole about “the boy who lived” an’ his friends sounded more smart an’ heartfelt than fanciful. They traded contacts, an’ the deckhand promised she’d pick up tha first book after Mei Lin’s adventure was done.

Now, with eight hours’ flyin’ time left an’ laundry runnin’ in both machines, she could catch ‘er breath an’ actually think on what her coin might afford her on Pelorum. Precious little, Abby conjured, after buyin’ a bikini like she an’ Alana said they’s doin’ together. But tha beach was free, an’ she could spend all tha time she desired on tha sand, with one book or ‘nother. Sounded mighty nice. Nicer still if she could share it with Thomas. But he ain’t speakin’ with her jest now, leavin’ a whole stack ‘o’ her waves unanswered. She decided she ain’t sendin’ no more. She ‘pologized aplenty; now it’s on him. On his time.

The days ahead was hers.

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Aww, shucks...

I'm just sorry for the lag time, gang. Just emerged from the six busiest months of my career, and I've got the blown out desk chair to prove it. (Important work/life balance note: When you find yourself using pairs of socks to cover crumbling armrests, that's a telltale sign of two situations that bear correction.) But anyway...

Happy Sunday from the cargo bay!

As Wolf pointed out, we're now into Episode 5, "Shore Leave." Cap'n's got the boat pointed toward Pelorum, and he's in a mind to give his hard working crew a few days off. You can get the full skinny over in the IC thread, along with our latest "Crap Art" travel poster. Yeah, I believe this is becoming a thing.

It bears repeating that while our plan for Ep 5 is completely up to you, we will run a couple underlying plots for anyone who wants to play along. And for all you who have your own character stories to tell, just know that if you need our characters to support your ideas, just send a wave. We're happy to see your adventures come to life.

So, I'm traveling for the next 3 weeks (work thing.) Mainly SOS, different office, meaning I'm pretty confident that I can keep up with y'all. However, if my responses are a little delayed, just know that I'll still be checking and keeping myself current with the happenings on and off the boat.

Now, get your sunscreen and a beach chair. Abby's got bikini shopping in mind...leastways til she sees the price tag. "Fer Buddha's sake, I'll jest go swimmin' in muh gorram unders!"

WWIF,

sail

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Episode 5 - Shore Leave

STORY NOTE: After her run-in with some angry slavers, China Doll made a bee line for her true destination…Bernadette. Once there, the crew bade their farewells to the Anabaptist refugees. Sister Lyen had found them the perfect match, their forty souls filling the ranks of a colony ship headed for New Omaha, one of Deadwood’s moons. The life they faced would by no means be an easy one, but the choice to go was made as free people.

The college students who’d all served as body doubles had chosen to remain aboard for the free ride to Pelorum, the timing a perfect fit for the much vaunted Spring Break. Likewise, Sister Lyen Giu had also opted for China Doll, due in part to the prominent display of her name in a crisp Osiris arrest warrant.

Ahead of them lay Pelorum, the resort jewel of the ‘verse. Though the college kids had already started the party, many of China Doll’s crew were looking forward to some much needed down time. Some had big plans; others wished little more than their toes in the sand. Fingers crossed that life doesn’t go sideways.

PELORUM: The Firefly Travelers’ Companion to the ‘Verse tells us this:

“With its’ crystal blue waters and temperate climate, Pelorum has earned its’ reputation as one of the most desirable vacation destinations in the entire ‘Verse.”

Most of the planet’s surface is devoted to resorts so exclusive and expensive that they’ll make you wonder if Pelorum’s host protostar (Lux) is actually short for “Luxurious.” While the steep prices tend to limit Pelorum’s clientele to the wealthiest members of Core Society, the planet often finds itself host to crews coming home from a big job—or a big heist—who are looking to unwind in style. No matter where you’re from, though, if you have the credits to spare, Pelorum is the perfect place to relax and recover from a long journey across the ‘Verse.”

PLAYER NOTE: While we will have one or two central plots for the episode, your characters’ time on Pelorum is largely their own. Engaging the central plots is purely optional. Feel free to explore and run individual character stories as you wish! While we, your humble hosts, do have some plans for our characters, please reach out if any of those folk might help you realize your own character subplots.

We begin Episode 5 with China Doll about 8 hours away from landing. Despite the havoc of college kids en route to their party destination, the mood aboard is definitely buoyant...for most of us.

Now, go have fun!

You still here? Go on…git!

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Predator and Prey

Part 2 of the Episode 4 climax by @wanderingwolf and @sail3695

“What sort of weaponry?” Yuri asked.

Sam’s cool tone filled the bridge once again, “Recorded types are all rudimentary, intended to batter a vessel, penetrate the hull, or to simply take hold. The most popular weapons are chain hoisted grapples. Inexpensive and easy to operate.”

So that was it, the first mate thought. Slavers would catch them in the open black, and after a little weaving about, would sink their hooks and reel them in. “How much time until they overtake us?” he asked.

“Just under two ticks,” Cal replied under his breath, arms rooted to the console.

The cockpit fell silent, leaving each man to his thoughts. Yuri was considering just how they might defend each compartment from boarders when Sam routed an incoming transmission to the pilot’s screen. There, in an image gone slightly fuzzy with the aging display, was the leering face of Detective Hekubah. “China Doll,” he ordered, “Heave to and prepare to be boarded.”

"Hekubah," Cal's tone was a touch unfriendly as he squared on the viewport. "Don't imagine you're actin' under Osiris jurisdiction out here," the Captain’s eyes hardened.

The detective cum slaver waved a dismissive hand. “I’m only going to make this offer once,” he offered a triumphal grin. “Surrender without any trouble, captain, and we’ll put you and your crew safely off at the next world we pass. But,” he added, “if I catch so much as a whiff of skulduggery, you’ll end up sharing the auction block with those Anabaptists you have aboard. Heave to…now.”

"Attractive as that offer might seem, from where I'm sittin' it sounds a lot like you just appreciate the sound of your own voice. Chui Se," Cal hammered the disconnect button with his palm, thrusting the screen's viewport into darkness. (trans. go to hell)

From his seat at the helm, Tommy Pearson had been largely silent throughout their escape and flight through the black. Now, without turning his head, the pilot offered his own opinion. “Mayhaps he can run us to ground, but he’s still gotta catch us first. Come on, darlin’,” he gave the console a tender pat, “let’s dance.”

Yuri grabbed the intercom mic. “This is the first mate. We’ve got some quick twists and turns to make. If you’re not already strapped in, sit down and hang onto some…oh, la shi!” he exclaimed as the deck suddenly raced up to meet his face. China Doll broke right, her pilot leaning hard into a turn to shake the larger, faster Trans U.

The slaver ship cut speed, attempting to follow the more nimble Firefly. As Yuri watched, Tommy used a wide array of tricks, feinting up before plunging down, cartwheeling and jinking the boat through seemingly impossible aerobatics. “On Earth-That-Was,” he said absently as he warded off the pirate attacks, “they called this ‘dog fighting…”

“Yeah,” Yuri rubbed his jaw as an object flew right before their viewports. “Did you see that?” he asked.

The Captain chimed in, "Old tech; heavy chain grapple just missed us--Tommy, that was too close," Though his words didn't convey it, the appreciation that his pilot had made the dodge still sat in his eyes. The pilot, however, had his keen sights fixed on his controls and blackness ahead.

“Split-S,” Tommy announced, “and then I’m gonna put on the brakes. He’s too fast, so he’ll fly right by us. Hang on this time!”

“Thanks!” Yuri replied as the stars before them whirled counterclockwise. The pilot hauled on the yolk, pulling China Doll’s nose tightly upward while the first mate clutched at the hand railing. The viewpanes were suddenly filled with the underside of their pursuer, speeding past at a near blur as Tommy had predicted.

“I counted two grapples,” Yuri said as the Firefly maneuvered clear of the big boat’s thrust. “Short of guns and fists, I’m clue free about how to strike back.”

“He’s running,” Tommy observed as the Trans U throttled up. The pilot did likewise, firewalling China Doll’s thrust to pursue the slavers. “Safest place for us is behind him. I can hang on his six for a skosh,” he offered, “but that’s only good for so long.”

Then it dawned on the Captain, "Hold steady, I just had an idea." His hands found the com above the Captain's chair, dial turned to hail the deckhand. "Abigail, come back."

“Cap’n?” the girl replied.

"Got somethin' I need you to do," Strand’s eyes flashed as he gave the command, "suit up, and grab that axe in the cargo bay. Loose those bricks and wait for my signal." As his fist unclenched the com, he locked eyes with Yuri, "We need to get in front of them."

“On it,” Abby said with no fuss.

“That part’s easy,” Tommy answered Cal. “He’s on full burn now. Gonna use his speed to open some distance and then he’ll wheel about to grapple us head on. You want me to veer off or try to hang behind him?”

"Peel off, make him chase us. Then we'll wait until they’re just outside of that grapple," replied Cal clenching his jaw.

With a nod, the pilot pulled the yolk into his stomach. China Doll doubled back on her course, kicking into flank speed. “We’re running like a scalded dog now,” Tommy offered. “Buys us a couple ticks ‘til he can turn and burn in right behind us.” As the Firefly raced into the black, all eyes were fixed upon the pilot’s radar screen. For a moment, the big dot fell behind them. As they watched, it cut a wide arc onscreen before moving toward them once again. “And here she comes,” he said.

Hekubah’s face appeared once more on the console screen. “I’ve got to say,” he chuckled, “that it tickles me you made this choice. Your pilot knows his game. A skilled boat crew will fetch top coin, not to mention what the scrappers will shell out for your old scow…dohn mah?”

"This old bird might not outrun you," Cal replied into the view screen, “but I reckon you’re countin’ your winnin’s before the last cards been dealt, and Lady Luck’s a fickle mistress.” The Captain deafened the screen before turning to his pilot, “He’s gonna come in hard, I need you to dodge those grapples again.”

The detective grinned. “And you…without a chip to cash in. I’ll enjoy this,” he concluded, before the screen went dark. This time the Trans U meant business. As Cal predicted, she came up fast, closing the distance to fire both grapples in tandem. Tommy broke left, rolling the Firefly onto her port side before maneuvering thrusters tucked her into a side slip. They all felt the impact, a moment’s shudder as one of the lethal claws dealt a blow to their underside. “Did they hook us?” Yuri asked.

The pilot shook his head. “Just a sideswipe.” he tucked China Doll into another tight loop, as their pursuer came into sight. The big slaver had once again cut her speed as she reeled in both grapples for her next pass.

In the cargo bay, Abby’s axe was workin’, the well honed blade set tah bitin’ through each ‘o’ them pallet bands. When whatever ‘twas struck their bottom, the smack sent bricks chatterin’ an’ fallin’ about all akimbo. “What in tha Sam Hill,” the deckhand ruminated on Cap’n’s orders. She done as he said, put on a EV suit and now had all them bricks free tah tumble about. “Don’t make no sense,” the girl puzzled. “Don’t make no…oh. Oh!” When tha idea come, she reckoned she had it right. Cap’n had a plan. She weren’t none to enamored of her part in things. “Cap’n,” Abby’s voice come with a hollow sort of echo from her suit helmet com. “Choppin’s all done. I conjure whatcher about. I’m good tah go.”

From his place at the rail, Yuri watched as the trailing dot on their radar closed the distance. “They’re on us again,” he observed.

On the bridge of the slave ship Hannibal, the mood was ebullient. “We hit ‘em!” Detective Hekubah gloated. “Did you see that?”

“We all saw it,” Murphy, the captain, fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Any damage to our starboard grapple?”

The boat’s armourer shook his head. “Claws open and close just fine. EMP arcs still working,” The man gave a gap toothed grin. “And I’ve got the harpoon at the ready.”

Murphy scowled. “That boat's got the mother lode on board. No way are we risking a hull breach. Grapples only for this run…copy?”

“Copy” the armourer’s tone was glum as he obeyed his captain.

“Shiny.” The captain stepped forward, his hands coming to grip the shoulders of both his armourer and the pilot. “One-two punch,” he explained his plan as their prey grew larger in the forward viewpane. “Set one grapple to spin ‘em around. Once they’re bow on, set the other and reel ‘em right up to our docking port.” The Firefly had opted to run, straight and true, to gain some distance. “You just fucked up,” Murphy’s wolfish grin spread upon his face. “Now we gotcha.”

China Doll plunged ahead into the unyielding black, the massive Trans U devouring what little distance remained between them. As Tommy waited for the final order, Cal drew the com to his chin and shouted to Abby, “Now!”

Down in the cargo bay, Abby felt tha nose loop up agin.. When China Doll’s thrusters brought a sudden stop tah their flip, she slammed ‘er gloved hand down on tha hatch control. Alarms commenced screamin’ an’ yella lights tah strobin’ as the deckhand grabbed hold of the little console. Suddenly, the forward bulkhead give a lift, openin’ the cargo bay tah the black. A hurricane wind howled all about the girl, grabbin’ at her for tah suck her right out…along with all them bricks they spent days haulin’ in. They flew through tha gap, machine gunnin’ their way inta tha black, so fast they’s a blur afore her eyes. Hunnerds an’ hunnerds of ‘em went shootin’ out, til they ain’t none left. She’s hangin’ on fer dear life, legs picked up in tha vacuum suction as she seen them empty pallets go sailin’ out behind.

The Hannibal drew in, her crew almost salivating at the size of today’s haul. A bunch of religious nutjobs, ripe for working to death by terraformers. A Firefly and her crew. And to sweeten the deal, a passel of rich college kids from Osiris. Black Zone law was clear. If their parents wanted their little darlings back, they’d have to pay some serious coin. “Ready the grapples,” Murphy commanded as their quarry made one last, futile maneuver. China Doll cut her engines, thrusters lifting her nose through a one-eighty until her posture was head on,
inverted to the pursuing Hannibal as her inertia carried her on her course. “Well, I’ll be damned,” Captain Murphy grinned.

At his side was a visibly confused Detective Hekubah. “What are they doing?” he asked the others on the Trans U’s bridge.

“Setting up for a dock, most like,” the slaver’s pilot asked. “They conjure we’re gonna run ‘em to ground by and by…wait. Their ramp’s down. Their bay hatch is…”GORRAMIT!” Everyone ducked instinctively as the staccato rain of bricks slammed into their forward viewpane. ”La shi…la shi…LA SHI!” Murphy, the slaver chief, shouted above the pounding storm. As they watched, the first cracks formed, crazing their way across the entire surface as the last of the brick volley struck home. “GET OUT OF HERE!” Murphy roared. “GET OUT…”

It was all surreal, like a dream. Hekubah saw the entire viewpane explode outward…felt himself lifted on a strange wind. He saw his ship…could see Murphy tumbling behind him. His chest felt heavy and overly full, but there was naught to breathe. As the cold took him, the last sight his eyes could manage was that Firefly that had caused him so much misery. [i]”Nǐ zhège fèifèi de pìgu kāiliè,”[/] The curse froze in his mouth.

A deft tap to China Doll’s maneuvering thrusters allowed her to slip cleanly beneath the now pilotless Trans U. As Cal, Tommy, and Yuri heard the sound of Abby firing the Doll’s hydraulics to seal up the cargo bay, the trio peered into the sight displayed in the reverse view alight on the console screen. Their pursuer remained on full burn, but the busted out cockpit of the Trans U furnished a sober conclusion to the crew’s gambit. Cal snapped off the screen, and turned to fall into his chair, com in hand, “Good work, kid.”

Down in tha cargo bay, Abby kep ‘er helmet on as tha air pressure slowly started comin’ back up. By all accounts, she’d be hangin’ out in ‘er EV suit fer tha next hour or so til pressure all got ‘Even-Stephen.’ “Thanks, Cap’n,” she answered Cal’s voice. “We goin’ tah Pelorum now?” After her last few adventures, puttin’ toes in tha sand was high on her list.

“Got one stop in mind ‘fore you can get to work on your tan.” He left the com open as he addressed the bridge as well, “Set a course for Bernadette, and leave our friends for the reavers.”

The slave ship sped on, her engines carrying her at full throttle to a fate unknown. China Doll set her own course, her hind quarters all lit up as the boat’s nose pointed toward another world, and a better life for her most precious cargo. In the blink of an eye she was gone, the last trace of her presence being the reflection that faded in a pair of lifeless eyes.

**********The End**********

Music swell

Fade to black

Roll credits

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Hell Outta Dodge

Part 2 of the Episode 4 climax by @wanderingwolf and @sail3695

The ramp lowered, revealing the familiar, tumbledown scene of their recent standoff with the bike gangs of two worlds. It even smells the same, Yuri thought as he led three of the crew down onto the abandoned waste. Several of the brick piles were missing, their contents harvested and serenely stacked in the cargo bay. In the distance, a lone streetlight winked on, joining the dim pinpoints allowed through nightshades of the ragged tenements bordering the brickyard. Bits of gravel and shattered glass crunched beneath his boots, their presence felt more than heard for the quiet whine of China Doll’s idling engines. “Look sharp,” the first mate ordered, his own eyes sweeping the expanse for any sign of movement.

Yuri soon realized that command was hardly necessary. Without a word, Imani and Hook had taken flanking positions, both dropping to one knee, their weapons drawn and sweeping careful arcs. A single gunshot turned their heads as it echoed through an opening between buildings. He gripped his own pistol, eyes peering through gathering darkness toward the sound.

Another shot rang out, then another. Yuri flinched as a firm hand landed upon his shoulder. The towering Elias stood beside him, pointing toward heaps of distant rubble. Following his direction, Yuri stared through the gloom…and saw movement. A number of shadow figures approached, their heads mere silhouettes as they bobbed up and down. Running, Yuri barely had time to think, before a lone figure burst into the open. The woman, slight of build, sprinted forward, then turned to encourage those who ran in her wake. Even as twilight surrendered to darkness, the distinctive orange of her kasaya robe removed all doubt. “Here they come,” he said.

More gunfire sounded. This time, a muzzle flash could be seen; the throaty bark of the gun was familiar to China Doll’s crew. Their captain was bringing up the rear, firing upon the pursuers at their heels. “Watch our flanks,” Yuri cautioned as Sister Lyen and her flock approached at a dead run. Yuri fought a powerful urge to rush forward, join Cal in the fray and ward off the attacking slavers. But no…this was their territory. He had to protect the boat…couldn’t allow them to slip in behind. “Come on, come on!” he waved toward the band. “Sister,” Yuri greeted the nun, “get them aboard. Take cover behind those bricks in the hold!”

The refugees hurried past him, each subconsciously ducking their heads with every gunshot. Yuri recognized several young faces as they sprinted for the ramp. These were the college students, the body doubles who’d lent their support to saving the Anabaptists from impending slavery. Last in their group was the lean, angular frame of the Captain. “We’re ready, sir,” the first mate reported as Cal’s pistol swung to join those of his crew.

The Captain threw an appraising glance over the posse formed at the foot of the China Doll. Yuri, Hook, and the new muscle, Imani, he expected, sure, but the big guy, Elias, was a welcome exception. As they rained cover fire, Cal replied to his mate, "Bang-up job, gentlemen; now let’s git. I think we overstayed our welcome."

Distant muzzle flashes were followed by a metallic ring as one shot ricocheted off a landing strut. Another fractured the concrete before Yuri’s boot as he held position. Soon, the captain and his five crew were backing up the ramp, returning fire toward their unseen pursuers. As Imani, Hook, and Elias kept the wolves from the door, Yuri ran for the ramp controls as Cal barked his order into the intercom.

"Button 'er up, Tommy. It's time to go!"

With a sudden roar, China Doll clawed her way into the air, her cargo bay still open as the ramp and bulkhead slowly moved into place. Yuri could still hear rounds peppering the hull as Tommy swung her around for a rapid egress.

In the catwalk, Abby seen the spark when a stray shot ricocheted off the railing. She heard metal on metal, afore feelin’ a tug on ‘er right shoulder. “Sumbitch!” she swore out loud, thinkin’ this tah be second time she done took a bullet on this boat. The deckhand reached up, fingers of ‘er left hand probin’ tha spot. Din’ feel nothin’, but she conjured that’s how t’was right after gettin’ hit. She looked upon her fingers, puzzlin’ a skosh over how they ain’t no blood. After cranin’ ‘er neck real hard an’ reachin’ all about, she unnerstood when the bullet come down it jest clipped ‘er shirt a might. An’ that pissed ‘er off righteously, seein’s how she liked this shirt. “Sumbitch!” she spat agin as ‘er fingers found tha rip.

“Abby?” Yuri called from below as the boat sped upward. “You shiny?”

“Tolerable,” come the girl’s reply. “Any y’all know how tah sew a patch?”

The mate chuckled. “We’ll figure it out. In the meantime, we’ve got more folk to get settled aboard. I need you to help Hook and Imani with our new passengers.” As he finished his orders, the roar of China Doll’s upthrust was suddenly silenced. They’d made it into the black. He could heave a sigh of relief. Pelorum in a day and half, the first mate thought as he mounted the stairs for the upper deck. Close quarters for everyone. Might need the crew to double or triple up… He made a mental note to give his quarters to Edina and Abby for the run. As Yuri stepped into the cockpit, thoughts of asking Hook to offer up deckspace for Elias and himself were dashed aside at sight of the captain’s face. “We’re getting the rest secured,” he reported. “What’s going on?”

"We're not out of the woods. Tail's buzzin' us and comin' up fast." Cal jammed a finger at the green blips emanating from the flight controls.

Yuri’s eyes fixed on the radar screen. Sure enough, there was someone behind them, a persistent little dot that drew closer with each sweep of the emitter. “Any idea who that is?” he asked, realizing the silly nature of his question before the words had even escaped his lips.

S.A.M.A.N.T.H.A chose that moment to bring everyone up to speed. “The radar signature is a profile match for a high speed freighter, designation Trans U.” The intuitive AI seemed to recognize Yuri’s ‘fish out of water’ stance when it came to details of spacegoing boats when she added, “A stock issue Trans U can outrun a Firefly Class III. We have a maneuverability advantage, but Reavers and pirates have found the Trans U a versatile platform for weaponry.”

"Huīhuáng, xiànzài wǒmen bèi tuóbèile," the Captain drew a hand over his face and straightened. (trans. Brilliant, now we're humped.)

**********To Be Continued**********

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Chasing Sunset

Loaded with her precious cargo, China Doll rose into the air. Her dual atmo turbine engines roared as the boat’s nose swung toward the Northwest. A deft tap to her throttles started her on her way toward the Blackout Zone…and those they hoped to rescue.

From his place in the captain’s usual chair, Yuri watched as the new pilot took to the yolk like a duck to water. To his mechanic’s sensibilities, Tommy didn’t possess the graceful finesse of the last pilot. But, he reasoned, for a first launch he’s got a solid technique. As China Doll rose into the air, her First Mate recalled what little he actually knew about the situation into which they’d fly this time.

”I need the Doll in the BZ, pronto.”

And nothing more, though Hook’s surprise early return with the final dozen Anabaptists offered some fodder for reading between the lines. Something went South. Yuri conjured that ‘something’ to involve a scorned detective and his slaver cohorts. “Tommy,” he said as their upthrust cleared them of their docking berth, “swing her around to the Northwest, two-eight-five degrees. We’re looking for an open space everyone calls ‘The Brickyard.’ Help me watch for it, dohn mah?

Cargo bay always got way loud when they’s takin’ off. Folk conjured tha racket come from the cargo itself, but Abby knowed it’s strapped an’ wrapped down tight. Whatever museum pieces was closed up in them fridge crates weren’t makin’ a peep tah her ear. But China Doll had a song she sang, a chorus of squeaks an’ rattles tah join tha roar of ‘er atmo engines. Them’s never heard it afore got all panicky, like they’s askeert she’s gon’ fly herself apart. But the deckhand, strapped inta her fold down jump seat, heard tha music of a tough old boat. Yeah, she creaked and moaned a tetch, but so did Uncle Bob when he got up. And they both got the job done.

She felt tha turn, tha lean in and push as the engines carried ‘em forward. Ain’t much been told yet ‘bout where they’s goin, but the girl reckoned it had tah be one place, that Blackout Zone. Cap’n’s in a scrape, she pondered. Didn’t know who with, but Abby found ‘erself hopin’ its’ bikers. Mayhaps if t’was, she could pull on that cut an’ use her newfangled sisterhood in Headhunters MC tah talk Cap’n outta whatever he done got hisself inta. “Leverage,” she seen it called once in a book.

“That’s shiny,” Yuri said as the gleaming spires of Capital City gave way to the dull grey of the warehouse district. “Hold this heading.” China Doll flew in low, skimming the rooftops as the rough confines of the Blackout Zone drew ever closer. There hadn’t been time to file a flight plan for this unscheduled hop, leaving both the pilot and first mate in agreement that keeping off the local radar was the best way to avoid a land lock.

He saw the border wall and its’ onerous checkpoint pass beneath them. The first sun had just set, and the second was a deepening orange on the horizon. The tenements over which they flew now huddled in lengthening shadow, their squalor reminding Yuri of ancient cities on Earth-That-Was whose slumbers had been disturbed by the archaeoligist’s shovel. “Not much further,” he said, his eyes peeled forward as he studied the approaching landscape. “There,” the first mate pointed. “Two o’clock. That’s our landing site.”

The world tilted as China Doll banked toward the broad, open space. “Sam,” Yuri spoke to the ever attentive AI, “let the captain know we’re on the ground in 1 tick.” He grabbed the intercom mic which dangled from above. “All hands, this is the first mate,” he announced. “We’re feet down in the brickyard in just under a minute. Here’s what I need.”

Through the forward viewpane, he could see the approaching brickyard, a checkerboard of aging foundations whose buildings had long since devolved into heaps of rubble and the piles of ancient brick they’d harvested. “Hook, Imani, Elias,” Yuri spoke into the mic, “strap up and meet me at the cargo ramp. Abby,” he continued, “I want you in the catwalk…with your rifle.”

China Doll swept in, her landing lights playing over the uneven patchwork as she whirled in a neat one-eighty, clawlike struts deploying to catch the ground beneath her. “Tommy,” Yuri said to the pilot, “Keep her idling. We’re off this rock the instant we take our own aboard.” His orders given, the first mate bolted from the cockpit.

“Copy.” Soon’s she felt touchdown, Abby’s outta that jump seat, set off in a dead run fer tha aft cargo bay hatch. She cranked it open an’ bolted through with a leap down inta tha medbay lounge.

At sight of the deckhand, Edina wriggled free of her safety straps. “What’s happening, Abby?” she asked as the girl raced past.

“Gitcher gun!” the girl shouted over ‘er shoulder as she made tracks fer her room. Din’ take but a tick fer her tah unsheath the Mosin. Abby slung it over her right shoulder, afore scoopin’ up all her mags an’s stuffin’ ‘em in pockets. Not bein’ sure just what sorta trouble’s gon’ follow tha Cap’n aboard, she took a second tah strap the Colt’s holster onta her waist. Now she’s rigged an’ ready, the girl headed back from whence she came, makin’ for tha cargo bay.

She seen Edina, lookin’ nervous with a pistol handgrip nudgin’ out sideways from her sweater pocket.

The gun felt heavy, tugging her sweater down as it threatened to fall out of her pocket. Edina tried adjusting the weapon, the struggle proving futile as Abby rushed back into the medbay lounge. The girl looked ready to fight a gorram war! “What’s going on?” she asked the heavily armed teenager.

Abby held up a second after seein’ tha look in Edina’s eyes. “We’re pickin’ up tha Cap’n,” she answered. “I conjure Yuri’s got us prepped fer any sorta fight may try tah follow him on board.”

She had so many questions, but for now, there was only one that mattered. “What should I do?” Edina asked.

“Dog this hatch,” Abby replied. “Don’t open up fer nobody, less Cap’n or Yuri gives tha ‘all clear.” She din’ wait for no answer. Abby hurried through tah tha cargo bay. As she climbed them catwalk steps she could hear tha hatch slam shut an’ lockin’ bolts slidin’ home. Once she got up top, tha girl emptied mags from ‘er pockets. She sat down, cross legged In’jun style tah git sitchiated. One mag slipped inta tha Mosin, and t’others was set layin’ close tah hand in a neat row. At tha end of the line, she placed tha Colt.

The girl leaned her long rifle against tha railin’, afore pullin’ a hairband outta her breast pocket. As she tied ‘er hair back inta a ponytail, Abby watched as Yuri, Hook, Imani, an’ Elias all made ready fer whatever’s ‘bout tah come when they dropped tha ramp. When he looked her way, she give him a nod. She’s ready.

Yuri acknowledged the teenager with a nod of his own. “Just remember,” he told the crewmembers at his side, “we’re here for the captain and whoever else he’s bringing aboard. We get them in, and we go. We don’t shoot unless we’re shot at. Everybody clear on that?” the First Mate demanded. “Hook,” his eye found the cook. “Lower the ramp.”

****To Be Continued****

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Happy Sunday from the cargo bay!

I added a bit to the JP/collab. Here's what we know for now:

Hook, Imani, and Elias are in the cargo bay with Yuri. They're about to lower the ramp and are hoping to see the captain, Sister Lyen, and a few of the college student volunteer body doubles all running for the boat. Yuri also hopes that they're not going to see pursuing slavers, especially those with guns. He's put Abby on the catwalk with her long rifle to watch their backs and keep unwelcome guests from boarding.

Edina is currently standing guard in the medbay lounge. She's sealed the aft cargo bay hatch.
Tommy is in the cockpit, keeping China Doll's atmo engines idling for a quick takeoff.

That leaves two characters, Quill Cassidy and the doc. Now, our doc is a member of the crew. She wasn't ordered to the cargo bay for fisticuffs; I'm assuming she'd be prepping medbay for possible wounded. (Not to mention, there's an Anabaptist strapped into the medbay lounge with a case of the Wet Lung.) @Xandrya, what do you think? Given her character dynamic, what would Alana be doing right now?

Then there's Quill. What would she be doing? She's not officially crew, though in Yuri's eyes she's a Big Damn Hero. What would she be doing during this moment...joining the cargo bay folk in a scrape, taking a position with Abby in the catwalk, or would she be looking after their Anabaptist passengers? @PatientBean, you've got carte blanche to have Quill act according to her own lights.

Just a reminder that the JP/Collab is being built on FF2V Reusable 5. The link's available in our group chat, or we'll be glad to send it directly if you need.

Hope you're all having a terrific weekend. This is my first completely open weekend in six months. Work has slowed down, and as of last Tuesday I'm officially Covid free! What a joy to have plenty of time to flex both physical and writing muscles once again. And by the way, if you're having any trouble flexing that writing muscle of your own, let us know. We're happy to talk character subplots and brainstorm to fuel your creativity.

WWIF,

Sail

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Salvage

Hekubah was fuming. He had them. He had them dead to rights, with a dozen slaves purposefully concealed. Even with the permits delivered by that fanciful witch…Cassidy, Quill, the ident log read…he had enough criminal intent to finesse a twenty-four hour landlock on the boat. But no, the detective inwardly raged. Gorram Kondo was just itching to get his troops back to barracks! He’d file a complaint about the captain’s conduct. He’d also spend some time looking into Quill Cassidy.

The military staff car had dropped him at his precinct, leaving him to scowl at his brother officers all the way back to his desk. The paperwork for this debacle was going to take hours, probably a night full of painstaking narrative and verbal misdirection to avoid a sizeable blemish on his performance record. So, after his work to provide Murphy with a plum crop of slaves while taking Sister Lyen Giu down to boot, Detective Hekubah found himself with no coin and a job preservation scramble on his hands. It was enough to make him spit.

The buzzing in his breast pocket distracted him from darkening thoughts. “Hekubah,” he responded crisply as he pressed the little cortex reader to his ear.

“It’s Kwan. That Firefly you had me watching just picked up and hightailed it.”

“Did you see which way?”

“Looked to be Northwest,” the informant answered. “In a hurry.”

“Thanks,” Hekubah said.

Kwan, the dockyard worker turned C.I., was not finished. “You gonna get me my drops?” he asked. “Took my last hit this morning, and my head’s already….” The desperate request went unfinished as the detective disconnected to make a much more urgent call.

“Wrong number.”

“Murphy,” he cut in, “it’s Hekubah. Tell me you rounded up the rest of those Anabaptists.”

“Working on it,” came the brusque reply. “You got any for me?”

“No,” Hekubah turned his back, his voice hushed. “China Doll had a permit, but they also only had a dozen. Shouldn’t be hard to find the rest.”

“Well, you fucked this up for us,” Murphy growled. “But if there’s any left, my boys will find ‘em…not that you’re gonna see any coin by our sweat.”

The detective thought furiously, then answered the retort. “I’ve got news,” he said. “China Doll just lifted off. She’s headed for the Blackout Zone…I conjure to pick up her captain, that gorram nun, and some willing bodies who swapped places with your property.” Silence from the line told him that the slave trader was even now calculating a recoup of his losses. “You could take them all, and then some,” he suggested. “Plus their boat.”

“I’ll let you know,” the distant voice replied.

“Just make sure that when you scoop ‘em all up,” Hekubah’s wicked grin began to appear, “you’ve got Sister Lyen Giu and that captain…Calvin Strand…chained up in your hold.”

The realization that this score might work yet fresh in his mind, Detective Hekubah felt his spirits lift as he went to disconnect the line. No sooner had he done so than his cortex chirped again. “I wasn’t finished,” Murphy’s voice carried his anger. “We need you for a ride along on this one. Get to the BZ, with your badge and gun. We’ll meet you in the brickyard.”

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Button Up, Lock It Down

Five ticks til upthrust. Far’s she could see, the cargo bay deck was strewn with junk from them soldiers rangin’ about. She had tah shake a leg.

Abby checked the ramp. She spotted the lawn chair Edina’s usin’, pitched onta its’ side when them purple bellies pushed ‘er nose in the dirt. The deckhand fetched it right quick, afore closin’ up tha ramp an’ sealin’ the bulkhead. Next come tha belly hatch deck panels, their drives whinin’ an’ grindin’ under weight of all them bricks as she ran ‘em back. Once they’s settled inta place, the girl run all about tha deck, pickin’ up loose trash an’ puttin’ deck tools an’ load securin’ kit in its’ place..

She could hear tha engines spinnin’ up. Yuri weren’t joshin’. They’s gon’ git in a hurry. Last thing was double checkin’ all them bulkhead panels she’n Yuri pulled open. Abby grabbed a coffin key an’ hurried, jam an’ twist, jam an’ twist, jam an’ twist, up one side an’ down t’other, til she’s right sure none of ‘em come shakin’ off when China Doll’s in tha air.

Last one was tha ruse, the doll baby hidey hole she built tah take their noses off tha scent. Abby couldn’t help the little smile come on her face as she swung it down an’ dogged it shut. She seen little girls among them Anabaptists. Mayhaps Cap’n or Yuri’d let ‘em inta tha cargo bay while they’s in the black. Let ‘em play a spell.

She conjured she’s inside a minute. Abby give the cargo bay one last look, then grabbed the intercom mic. “Cargo bay’s buttoned down,” she reported.

“Copy,” Yuri’s voice come back. “Stay close, Abby. We’ll need to open her up on the quick.”

“You got it.” As she wriggled inta tha straps of a jump seat, Abby could feel tha atmo engines rotatin’. She had no ken fer what’s ‘bout tah happen, but the girl conjured it weren’t tea an’ biscuits.