sail3695

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Cold Comfort

For a crew whose minds had given over to their respective dalliances these past three days, the people of China Doll took the harsh lift of the veil with practiced silence. One of theirs was gone, and with her, the common fantasy that everything would end up shiny. Cap’n would put it right, Alana would return, and they’d all fly away with big smiles and tales to swap.

Instead, they had an urn, and an account of a time bomb to the brainpan. Tumor and aneurysm, words whose meanings were frequently clouded in medical hopespeak…until one was faced with the cold shen of the burial urn before them. Alana Lysanger, their doctor, shipmate, friend…was truly gone. Cap’n didn’t waste words on the topic or the ensuing tale. Instead, he stood up, shouldered what burden was his to claim, and reminded this crew of their own stations. The first mate found himself struck by the hidden kindness of the man’s no nonsense approach.

Yuri let three beats pass before speaking. “Alright, people,” his voice attacked the heavy pall of silence, “the man didn’t stutter. Elias,” his eye found the mechanic, “spin ‘er up. SAM and I will start preflights in five ticks. Abby,” he proffered the clipboard. “See to our passengers. Get ‘em all strapped and wrapped for upthrust. Then make sure we’re buttoned up and cut loose from shore power. Copy?”

As the girl and her towering counterpart rose to their tasks, Yuri’s gaze touched on the rest of China Doll’s current crew. “Imani…make sure Medbay’s all squared. Sister,” his tone softened as he addressed the nun, “I’d be most obliged if you could give Edina here a hand with locking down the galley and the topside lounge. As for Edina herself, he felt he could barely meet her eye. What she’d become to him, and what they’d shared during a few days in this paradise bore no weight in face of the stark world now crashing down around their ears. To look into her eyes and see such glimmer felt as alien a notion as the cold light glistening upon Alana’s gorramed urn.

Instead, he covered with bluster. “Skids up in fifteen!” Yuri called after the dispersing boat crew. He turned to make for his quarters and a change of clothes when his eyes fell once more upon the porcelain urn. Angel, Yuri mused of the first time he’d seen her, a dazzling figure who snatched him from a violent sea. He wasn’t sure that such creatures existed; they belonged to the dogmas his mother had forced upon her husband and sons with no evidence of truth to be found in this ‘verse.

But as Yuri hastened to get into his working clothes, he found a bit of comfort in the thought of Alana’s ascension.

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Happy Sunday from the cargo bay!

Been a minute since I dropped a Sunday OOC. My personal 'verse got a little active there, but I'm seeing clear skies ahead and will try to keep up with my end of the bargain.

The little pirate robbery thingy is posted. Rumor has it that we'll be seeing the episode climax any time now. In the meantime, if you've got misadventures to write for the final night of shore leave, have at it! I'm think of one-two little notions for characters myself...unless, of course, you need any of my folk to play supporting roles for your ideas.

So, in about a week I'm being hacked on by surgeons. Rumor has it that I might feel sort of sluggish for a few days afterward, but we'll see about that. I'm not planning any big absences, though I'm betting I'll be conked out for one day at least. But have no fear. Wolf can steer! He's put together a plan and everything.

Finally Happy Birthday to our youngest crew! Xandrya's little boy Alex celebrates this coming week with a single candle on his cake.

WWIF,

sail

Firefly - Second 'Verse

STORY NOTE:

The Zodiac made its' way back to the cover of a boathouse on an inland waterway. Once the boat was safely concealed, Lorraine paid its' owner a hefty fee for the use, and then divided all the coin into equal shares for each of the faux pirate crew. The jewelry she kept; there were fences on a dozen worlds who'd pay up for such finery...enough to finance her little operation.

The silent little Brinker disappeared into the night, his mission accomplished. Good news for Lorraine and her crew, as the Browncoat underground had tossed them some lucrative work in the past. She just had one final chore to see this round of business to its' completion.

WRITERS' NOTE:

With the job complete, writers are free to move their characters at will...whether that's back to the boat, or to go carousing with their newfound coin. Careful, though. Spending like a drunken sailor on the same night as a robbery sometimes doesn't work out...

Firefly - Second 'Verse

A Slow Boat To Larceny, Part 4 - (Day 3, Evening)

Joint post by @Xandrya, @Bugman, and @sail3695

After seein’ tha stuffed shirt got hisself back aboard, Abby took ‘im below decks fer a towel an’ such, then locked 'im in while he's droppin' 'is drawers. When she come back up, she seen tha party was full throttle, rum an’ music was flowin’ while Lorraine an' her crew led tha way. From ‘er vantage by tha wheelhouse, she could see Imani jest breakin’ hearts ever'where she went. Tha whole crew was beginnin’ tah work their way starboard, kinda followin’ Lorraine’s lead. Wouldn’t be long now til they jumped tha rail an’ hightailed it. Time fer her last job. “Hi, Cap’n!” she said all cheerful like as she stepped inside. “What’s yer name?”

“Jim. Jim Gilliam,” the Antonia’s captain for the night answered.

“Call me Lily. Tiger Lily,” Abby grinned as ‘er sword come up. “Time fer me tah take yah prisoner,” she said. “Tell me somethin, Cap’n Jim. If I hit that flashin’ green button what says ‘AutoHelm Engage,’, will that git yer boat runnin’ back on ‘er course?”

“Yup,” he agreed. “But my notes said we were supposed to sword fight you guys off the ship.”

Abby nodded ‘er head. “Yeah, that’s what we’s told, too, but Mr. Howard changed it up tah walk tha plank. He’s down below gettin’ dried up. He’ll come git y’all an’ make a big show ‘bout rescuin’ tha crew afore we do that fight. Got it?” she grinned.

“Yeah, sounds good,” the college aged captain gave her an amiable nod as he turned for the stairway. “But can you do me a favor?” he asked. “Can I wait in the same cabin as one of our deckhands…Cassie?” he added sheepishly.

“Uh huh,” she laughed an’ followed him below.

Lorraine now stood on the starboard rail, one hand gripping a mast stay as the other merrily waved her plastic cutlass to the tune. The well heeled crowd had taken nicely to the pirate raid, laughing as they passed flagons of rum about the crowded deck. As she danced provocatively in her “Crimson Flo” persona, she took stock of her crew’s departures. One by one, they scampered over the rail onto their waiting escape. The pretty little seductress Abby had brought along was last to leave, and, she had to admit, the star of this party, though her own eyes had been fixed upon the rugged contours of the scarred giant. “Abby’s got quite a crew,” she muttered to herself. “Speaking of…”

She cast an eye toward the Antonia’s wheelhouse in time to see a head of wild red hair emerge. A sharp whistle and a wave of her sword later, Lorraine turned her gaze back toward the liquor fueled mirth down on deck. “LOVELY SOIRET YE’ HAVE HERE,” her voice boomed over the crowd, “BUT ALAS, IT’S TIME WE BID THEE FAREWELL. THANKEE FOR ALL YOUR HOSPITALITY!” With a flourish, she leapt over the rail and onto the old trawler’s deck. “Cast off,” she ordered, before two axes cleaved their mooring lines. “Iggy!” she tapped the wheelhouse window, “Full speed ahead!”

“What about Abby?” Reginald asked.

Lorraine answered with a sweep of her toy weapon. “Here she comes.”

After settin’ tha yacht’s autohelm back tah work, Abby hustled down on tha main deck. She felt tha Antonia startin’ tah move, an’ heard that old trawler’s motor rattlin’. Seein’s how she’s tha last pirate aboard, folk was all kindsa eager tah whirl ‘er in a dance, or jam more of their pretties an’ coin inta her hands. Must be carryin’ twenty extra pounds, she mused as she weaved an’ bobbed ‘er way tah tha starboard rail.

‘Cept, when she got there, spread ‘o’ water twixt both boats had ta be a good ten foot. An’ there’s Lorraine, all Cheshire Cat grin as she watched from t’other deck. Abby gestured, open hands askin’ jest what she’s playin’ at. “THINK YA MIGHTA WAITED JEST A SKOSH, CAP'N ASSHOLE?” she demanded.

“WHAT?” the pirate captain laughed, “AND DENY YOU THE COOLEST EXIT EVER?” Lorraine threw the knotted end of a rope that dangled from the old trawler’s mast. “DO IT LIKE A PIRATE!,” she grinned.

Abby clapped on with both hands. “ARRGH!” she shouted as nothin’ but black ocean swung underneath of ‘er, “YEW BITCH!” She’s laughin’ as Lorraine reached out an’ pulled her aboard, right inta her arms.

“That’s ‘Captain’ bitch to you,” the ringleader answered Abby with a peck to the tip of her nose. "Now go ready the skiff." Those aboard the Antonia who bothered to pay attention watched as the pirate trawler faded into the black or a moonless night, her crew serenading their victims with a funny little tune from Earth-That-Was:

“Always look on the bright side of life,
Always look on the right side of life…”

Forty-five minutes later, when the actual 'Captain Kidd' came alongside, her crew were astonished to find the party on Antonia’s main deck descended into rum soaked debauchery. After tales of “hot women pirates” and a man walking the plank, they made their way below decks. There, they found Candidate Nathan ‘Nate’ Howard, fuming inside a locked cabin, as well as one of the deckhands. The other was soon located in her bunk, wrapped in throes of passion with the vessel's captain.

“WHO WERE THEY?” Howard roared as young Jim Gilliam struggled into his pants.

“Said they were the Captain Kidd,” the Antonia's captain stammered as he bolted for the bridge.

“WE are the crew of the Captain Kidd!” an overtly costumed pirate groused as he followed the boy.

“The money!” Howard raged as he burst onto the main deck. “They took ALL THE MONEY! ALL THE DONATIONS!” His eyes flashed, searching the drunken horde on deck for a lackey to strangle.

Miles away, Lorraine’s crew huddled in their Zodiac as the old fishing trawler slipped beneath the waves. “Iggy,” she said to the legless man at the center console, “take us in.”

“Aye, Cap’n,” he grinned as the throttles pushed forward.

Abby watched tha old boat sink til it’s gone. She done scrubbed off tha wild makeup an donned 'er street clothes again, she an' all tha crew leavin' ever' bit 'o' pirate gear tah lie on tha bottom two hunnerd feet below. “Wish I coulda kep that coat,” she mourned tha loss. “An’ that boost-ee-yay.”

Lorraine chuckled. “For the haul each of you made tonight, I conjure you can go buy one that won’t be used as evidence.” She glanced toward Brinker. The little man was fidgeting with excitement, sure sign he’d successfully taken the real treasure from tonight’s adventure. As the small boat powered toward the lights of the New Iberia coastline, the former pirate captain nestled up against the silent giant, Elias. “Hi, sailor,” she smiled up into those piercing eyes. “Wanna have some fun?”

Fin.

Firefly - Second 'Verse

A Slow Boat To Larceny, Part 3 - (Day 3, Evening)

Joint post by @Xandrya, @Bugman, and @sail3695

Elias had been staring blankly into the distance as ‘Captain Flo’ had her ‘parley’ with the man of the hour. “Mhmm?” came the noise from Elias as the show came to one of its climaxes. He sighed the slightest bit. The Nathan fellow was larger than Elias had anticipated, and he suspected based on his expression and whisperings there’d be far too much effort in squirming for Elias to reliably just pick him up by the collar and toss him overboard. He raised an eyebrow, briefly sizing up his counterpart. For the first time in a very long time, Elias wasn’t wearing his mask making the facial gesture visible; the way he thought of it, everyone would assume his scars and missing bits were just a very elaborate assortment of makeup. By the lack of old ladies feinting and clutching pearls, it seemed people did fall for the ruse that he was just wearing some bit of a horror costume. Now that he thought about it, it was probably the first time any of the crew had seen any of his normal visage. It was bound to happen eventually, he figured why not make the reveal productively.

Realizing that he was holding things up, the man lowered his barrel that he had brought along to siphon any unattended bottles into, sticking it against a wall to ensure it wouldn’t bounce as much in the event a rough wave was hit. He drew a toy flintlock pistol that looked more like a pen in his hands, and pressed it to the back of the Candidate while another ham-fist clasped the shoulder of the host. “He’h moohih.” Elias managed tonguelessly, prodding the man onwards to the gangplank. This was shenanigans Elias didn’t like through and through, but if he imagined this rich man as his father, Elias thought he just might get some tiny inkling of enjoyment from the event. Then get really tipsy off of borrowed refreshments.

Finished with ‘er first order, Abby come back up on deck, jest in time tah see Elias an’ Reg puttin’ some stuffed shirt up on tha plank fer walkin’. Meant ‘er second job needed tah happen in one all fired hurry. Good news was Jake an’ Cassie, them deckhands, was all happy tah fill ‘er in on tha whereabouts ‘o’ things…like tha rope ladder they kep fer boardin’ little boats or swimmin’ parties. With the folk all watchin’ tha show Lorraine’s Cap’n Crimson Flo was puttin’ on, Abby’s able ta slip over tah tha aft railin’ an’ drop tha ladder down.

Once it done been tied to, she hustled forward agin. Stuffed shirt was still on tha Antonia’s divin’ board/walkin’ plank. She grabbed ‘erself a big orange life ring an’ a coil ‘o’ rope. Sure enough, long winded sumbitch weren’t nowheres near finished speechifyin’ afore she had ‘er rig all set fer throwin’.

Fine diamonds and pearls adorned her wrists as well as her neck. Multiple offers had clearly been made, but despite being showered in gifts from the wealthy and privileged, the necktie also being loosely worn around her neck claimed her as his own for the night. It seemed as if blue eyes wasn't keen on taking second place, too bad he was too much of a pretty face and not enough of the rugged type for her. But he didn't have to know that...

A gentle tug on her waist prompted her to look up, and that was just in time to witness the man himself being made to walk the plank. Imani could've partaken in such performance, but she'd rather not steal the show.

“Look at them!” Nate was in fine voice, his stump speech booming across the crowd who were filling the faux pirates’ sacks with heaps of coin, jewelry, and other valuable trinkets. The thought of his growing war chest would’ve ordinarily brought a smile, but not now. He stood on the tip of the diving board, the black sea beneath as he bellowed his talking points. “These pirates! These…BROWNCOATS!! FILTHY COCKROACHES WHO AIM TO UNDO ALL YOUR GOOD WORK! TO TAKE WHAT’S YOURS!” His eye caught the sultry little minx who’d been teasing him before. She worked the crowd, the men in particular, all succumbing to her flirtatious larceny by literally upending their coin purses into her sack. He’d be sure to learn her name…perhaps have Hicks line her up for a special ‘meet and greet’ at his private bungalow…”THE WAR DIDN’T TEACH THEM!” he roared. “THE LAW MEANS NOTHING TO THEM!”

Lorraine, known tonight as Crimson Flo, stifled a very public yawn. She cast a glance toward the silent one, Elias, as he held his place. The man was a tower, alright. She took in the scars on his face, her gaze tracing each jagged cruelty. But if she were honest, it was the eyes that really captivated her. This man kept himself in check, but those dark eyes burned with an intensity that she found dangerous. And Lorraine had a real thing for dangerous…

She nudged an elbow into his ribs. Whe Elias’ eyes met hers, Lorraine smiled, then tilted her head toward the bloviating mouthpiece. “Do the honors?” she mouthed the words.

Elias looked at the woman, giving the slightest bit of a disapproving grunt as the woman gave a Captain’s order, so to speak. Of course, she wasn’t really his Captain, but he wasn’t going to disobey his ride out of here. But, with each passing moment it more and more seemed that they were making an enemy ever so slightly more grudge-prone and simultaneously powerful than was good for one’s health.

With a deep sigh, he stuck out his leg like a prod and pushed man off; it wasn’t really a kick that was aimed with his toe like one for fighting would be. Rather, with his sole the man was simply given the most optimized shoving a human limb could delivery.

“Arrr.” Elias said, unenthusiastically grumbling the pirate’s catchphrase. He looked to his ‘Captain’ waiting for approval. He stepped a little further, just to make sure the man was overboard and not clinging onto some part of the boat. He wasn’t happy about what he was doing, but a job had to be done well and he wasn’t above stepping on fingers.

Abby traded smirks with Imani. Damn if she weren’t haulin’ up tha coin. An’ Elias…doin’ his part like he was. First time she seen the mechanic out tah carouse, an’ even though he’s still all dead serious as was his way, she kinda liked it. First time he showed his face, too. Man wore some serious scars, weren’t no two ways about that. She ain’t heard tha whole story, but what she knowed was them as did that tah him took tha tongue out his head, tah boot. Edina told ‘er that much.

From ‘er place on tha rail, she seen Lorraine give ‘im a nudge. Abby hooked ‘er feet twixt tha balustrades and made ready with tha life ring.

As Imani dragged Blue Eyes through the crowd, she felt his hand linger on places not many were welcome. More specifically, her behind. Now, she hadn't necessarily barred him from doing that, but even so, least he could do was make sure her near empty drink was already replaced, which he had failed to do.

There was a splash, but in that moment something else pulled her attention. Blue Eyes was walking away, and from what she made out, it was something in part serious. Imani decided to follow him purely out of curiosity, and soon enough she learned why.

"Emerson, you cheat!"

The girl whose voice was loud enough to pierce her ears evidently wasn't too pleased with him. With the cortex in hand, Blue Eyes pleaded with her as he continued to walk away, distancing away from Imani.

Thing is, she could have soured whatever type of relationship he had with that woman. "Captain, we got ourselves another volunteer for the plank!" That's all it would've took. But she didn't do it. However, what she would do is find another participant to partake in the day's festivities.

Helped along his way by the stone faced giant, the Honorable Candidate Nathan “Nate” Howard plunged into the inky deep, the resulting splash met with a roar of approval from the crowded deck. As Abby threw her life ring to the politician, Lorraine went into full pirate mode. “ANYONE ELSE?!” she roared above the merry audience. “ANYBODY WANT TO PALLAVER WITH DAVEY JONES?! NO? THEN OUT WITH IT! ALL YER BOOTY TO THE HANDS OF ME CREW! YOU THERE!” She waved the toy weapon toward the string quartet. “LET’S HAVE A TUNE! SOMETHIN’ FOLK CAN DANCE TO! BARKEEP!” The comical blade swept toward the nearest drink station. RUM FER ALL!!”

Wild As The Wind

A cheer swept the deck as flagons of rum appeared. Soon, patrons were forking over their cash for the honor of hoisting one of the jugs. Evening jackets and shawls were soon littering the Antonia’s railings as the stuffy political fundraiser transformed itself to a sailors’ delight. Lorraine grinned as her faux pirate crew danced and drank their way through the celebration, Jolly Roger pillow cases held out like costumed kids on All Hallow’s Eve to receive the coin and jewels meant for campaign contributions. She cast a sidelong glance toward the silent man from Abby’s crew, before her arms snaked around his neck. “You’re a natural, Elias,” she cooed into his ear, followed by a kiss landed upon the scarred stubble of his jaw. “You can shiver my timbers anytime!” With that, she leapt into the crowd, cutlass whirling above her head as she danced her way across the deck with a dozen partners. Brinker should be finished by now, she thought as a fat man twirled her into the arms of a grandly dressed woman.

A grumble that was nonetheless appreciated came from the man as she left him for her own endeavours. The touch of her skin certainly awakened thoughts he hadn’t felt in perhaps years now, the mechanic clicking his mouth wistfully as he saw her moving. Maybe some other time. he thought to himself, touching the scarring of his visage, and thus deciding it was something he had to fix. But for now, he had neurons to fry. Rolling his barrel about, he was about to take his own booty snatched neatly off of passing waiter’s plate and disgorged into an ever more sloshing cask.

She’d soon discover her hunch to be correct. Hidden among the gaudy pirate decorations aboard the old fishing trawler were a pair of directional antennae. They moved, slowly sweeping the main deck of the Antonia. Tucked away below decks in the Captain Kidd’s portside crew cabin was a timid looking little man. He sat on a stool, hunched over a pair of source boxes, watching intently as one by one, the cortex readers of so many rich and powerful Alliance types were paired and accessed. His bespectacled face, illuminated in the ghostly glow of his screens, was a mask of sheer delight. It was working. After tonight they’d have a constant stream of information from hundreds of the Alliance’s most well placed citizens. He couldn’t wait to report to Adler.

...to be continued…

Firefly - Second 'Verse

A Slow Boat To Larceny, Part 2 - (Day 3, Evening)

Joint post by @Xandrya, @Bugman, and @sail3695

Abby come over tha rail, heavy buckled sea boots clompin’ down on deck an’ a plasticky sword in ‘er hand. She wore tha same ‘boost-ee-yay’ as she had last night and a pair ‘o’ stripey tights. Din’ pick no hat nor doo rag. Instead, she let ‘er red hair fly all wild an’ went buck crazy on some face paint. After a good laugh, ‘twas Lorraine give ‘er her pirate name, ‘Tiger Lily.’ It was fun dressin’ like this, but far an’ away her fav’rite part was tha brown coat, jest like them as her ma an’ pa was wearin’ in tha captures on her wall. She had a mind tah keep it after tahnight.

Her first job was butt simple. Once she conjured tha boats was tied tahgether proper, she had tah look tah them as was Antonia’s crew. “Y’all two!” she barked at deckhands what had name badges Cassie an’ Jake, “we’s goin’ below. No fussin’ now!” Fer effect, she nudged Jake’s back with tha tip ‘o’ her toy cutlass. “Y’ALL MAKE WAY!” Abby/Tiger Lily shouted at them rich folk. Figgered they weren’t no good at listenin’...

“Miss,” one swell caught ‘er by tha arm, “are we supposed to give you our coin?”

“Uh….sure,” she swung tha toy blade tah threaten tha stuffed shirt an’ his wife. “Hand it over,” she made tah sound all menacin’ as folk commenced tah passin’ ‘er heaps ‘o’ cashy money. “And them earrings!” she commanded. “I’ll have them pears, too!”

This sorta struck her crazy, but it’s just like Lorraine said. She’s stuffin’ ‘er pockets when a nervous little fella come sidlin’ up, coin purse clutched in ‘is hand. “Ma’am,” he stammered from behind a smudged pair of glasses, “here’s all my coin.”

Abby clapped onta tha money pouch. As she did, her eye caught a flash ‘o’ gold across the lil’ man’s belly. “That too!” she barked, tip of ‘er cutlas nudgin’ tha chain. “Fork it over.”

His face went completely pale. “Please,” he stammered. “Please…” he hefted the pocketwatch into the light, before timidly placing it in the pirate girl’s outstretched palm. “This was my father’s…the last thing I have to remember him by.”

“What in hell yah tink’s gon’ happen here tahnight?” Abby/Tiger Lilly growled, sound ‘o’ her voice seemin’ tah shrink the little man inta a ball of fear. She give ‘im a shove, pressin’ tha heirloom inta his chest. “Tuck that down inside yah drawers,” she whispered, “so’s none of my shipmates get ideas. Dohn mah? She din’ wait fer no answer. They’s work needed doin’. But first…”Aiight y’all two,” Abby ordered them deckhands, “Git tah steppin’!”

Imani, aka Joli Rouge, planned to woon some men (and ladies) and she dressed for the role. Wearing a white crop top blouse, black corset mini-dress, knee-length boots, and a red bandana, Imani effortlessly climbed over the railing and into view of the esteemed guests.

"I'm here for yer booty...and yer rum!" she announced, raising her toy cutlass in the air and walking towards the cheering crowd with the intention of having a drink in hand. Some hotshot with piercing blue eyes placed one arm around her, walking side by side and matching her step. He guided her towards a suited fellow moving about the crowd with one arm resting on his lower back and the other hand holding a silver tray with a few remaining beverages.

“WE BE TAKIN’ YER SHIP!” Lorraine roared as she lept atop the capstan. As with her counterparts, she wore the brown coat, its’ folds hanging loosely to reveal a black “Jolly Roger” emblazoned bikini and ankle boots. She swung her head, the tricorner hat and eye patch nodding toward each guest as her gaze swept the deck. The pirate captain slipped the coat over her right hip to reveal the scabbard from which she unsheathed her sword. “LADS AND LASSES!” she shouted, “YER GRACED TONIGHT BY THE CREW OF THE CAPTAIN KIDD, THE MOST FEARSOME PIRATE SHIP IN THESE WATERS! FEAST YER EYES, MATIES!” Her cutlass pointed out the decrepit wreck of a fishing trawler now tied alongside. As a low chuckle wafted through the crowd, she swept the blade in a threatening arc. “I’M YER NEW CAP’N!” Lorraine’s voice carried across the deck. “FLO’S THE NAME. CRIMSON FLO!”

She grinned at the ripple of laughter. It was all working so far. Abby had returned from securing the two deckhands. Her shipmate from CHina Doll, Imani something, was vamping it up, the ring of men she’d drawn now in some competition of wallet size. The parrot’s a great touch, she couldn’t help but snicker to herself. The other, Elias, didn’t even have to work at it. She decided the man could be fierce just reading a dictionary….though there was some intrigue in the eyes of the ladies who removed their jewelry as he passed by, a skull and crossbones festooned pillow case held out for their booty.

“NOW SOME ‘O’ YE,” the captain shouted, “GOT THE RIGHT MIND, AND WE THANK YE FER YER GENEROSITY. BUT THERE’S ALWAYS ONE AMONG YE…ONE BE THINKIN’ HE HAS THE NERVE TO FACE ME AND MINE.” She waved the plastic weapon. “WHO BE THAT? WHO BE THE WOLF AMONG THIS FLOCK?”

“HERE!” Reg shouted as he nudged Candidate Nate Howard through the crowd. “GOT HIM RIGHT HERE, CAP’N!”

She could see the sour expression as the guest of honor was presented before the capstan that had become her stage. “I’LL HAVE YER NAME!” she demanded.

“NATHAN HOWARD, SENATE CANDIDATE!” he replied, playing along for the crowd while a very real sense of murder danced in his eyes. “YOU BROWNCOAT SCUM HAVEE NO RIGHT!!” Lorraine dropped to one knee before him, the toy blad pressing his throat. “You’re early!” Howard whispered harshly. “I’m supposed to make a speech!”

Captain Flo’s answering grin was rueful. “A SPEECH, YE SAY?” With a quick nod toward the towering Elias and Reg, she rose to her feet again. “A FINE NIGHT FOR A SPEECH IT IS! LONG’S YOU CAN DO YER SPEAKIN’...” she paused, her sword swinging toward the portside rail, “FROM THE PLANK!”

...to be continued…

Firefly - Second 'Verse

A Slow Boat To Larceny, Part 1 - (Day 3, Evening)

Joint post by @Xandrya, @Bugman, and @sail3695

For anyone who knew her history, the current state of the SV Antonia would most certainly seem a shadow of her former self. She’d been built seventy-three years ago to traditional specifications. In those days, she was a proud four masted schooner, a floating home to billionaire J.T. Slocum and a series of disposable wives. The graceful yacht was the first private vessel to roam the seas of Pelorum, a floating refuge for her owner and his guests beneath the mild tropical heavens.

After Slocum’s death and the inevitable family squabbling over his fortune, the Antonia was left to decay in her berth for nearly two decades. By the time Ocean Amusements Co. won her at auction, the venerable schooner was in a decrepit state. Her new owners wasted no time in effecting the necessary repairs and refits to convert the once proud vessel to daily service as a seagoing party palace. Of the four proud masts, only two remained, her main and mizzen having been excised to clear the deck for paying customers and cash bars.

She no longer used sail power; the fabric stretched between her few remaining spars served only to reflect the colored lights now anchored to her masts. Below deck hummed two electric motors to push the boat quietly through the gentle waves. Where once she required a crew of twelve to handle sails and helm, the Antonia now plied her trade with three, plus a small army of caterers, waitstaff, and bartenders.

From his place in the wheelhouse, Captain Jim Gilliam surveyed the night’s gathering, a crowd of upper crust types who were dressed to the nines for some politician’s private fund raiser. “Those penguins gotta be suffocating,” the lanky twenty-three year old snickered into his comm.

Cassie Lopez, the starboard rail watch, offered a thumb’s up. “That’s a rog. Not a puff of breeze on deck,” she whispered. “Only the two knots we’re making. Bars are going through ice like crazy.”

He checked his helm. Antonia was right on her course, the autohelm computer running the programmed route without a hitch. In fact, so much of the vessel’s operation was handled by AI that it really didn’t take more to avoid a code violation than an underpaid college kid to stand her bridge. But while the job didn’t pay la shi, it had it’s perks. Pretty easy work, his own cabin, and maybe a chance with Cassie…

The radar caught Jim’s eye. He had a contact, closing from astern. His brow furrowed as he checked his watch. “Hey guys,” he keyed the comm mic again, “our party crashers are early. Drop the starboard fenders. We’re about to stop.”

“Sounds good.” Jake Mitchell’s voice crackled as he detached himself from the port rail. “On my way, Cassie.”

As the crew of SS Antonia set about preparing for the evening’s entertainment, their captain fulfilled his own responsibilities with two keystrokes. COURSE INTERRUPT ceased her forward motion altogether. STATION KEEPING placed all her engines, including bow and stern thrusters, under the computer’s satellite directed positioning control. Regardless of wind or waves, the Antonia would now doggedly hold her place. Seeing that she’d obeyed his commands, Jim checked his notes, then switched radio channels. “Captain Kidd, this is Antonia. I see you a half kilometer to my stern, copy?”

After a few seconds’ pause, a slightly garbled voice echoed in the wheelhouse. “Captain Kidd copies.”

“I am hove to. Raft up on my starboard. My deckhands are standing by.” Jim turned, his eyes peering into the darkness behind the schooner. A ghostly shape began to take form, moonlight adding some detail to the approaching vessel.

The radio crackled to life once more. “Captain Kidd copies. See you in two ticks. We’re about to make some noise. Out.”

Jim turned in his chair to see both deckhands busily hanging fat rubber fenders over the starboard rail. “Stand by to take their lines,” he ordered over the comm. “It’s showtime.”

*************************************************
Candidate Nathan “Nate” Howard, the man of the hour, was quietly fuming. “Look at this. Just look!” he whispered angrily to a cowering assistant. “These folk are melting…gorram melting! And so’s their coin! What…what…[i]báichī[i]**...decided formal wear for a night on a friggin’ boat?”
(**moron)

“I’m sorry, sir,” the timid lackey flinched beneath his boss’ withering eye. Actually none other than Mrs. Candidate Nathan “Nate” Howard had made the ill fated call for dress code, but there was no way on Buddha’s green Pelorum that he’d be stupid enough to point that finger. “I’ve talked to the planner,” his voice quivered. We’re trying to find fans or something…”

Howard leaned in, his towering height and girth threatening as he prodded the young aid’s chest. “Try…harder,” his fingers poked rudely with each syllable. “While you’re at it,” he glowered, “get those overpaid fiddlers to play something doesn’t sound like a gorram funeral…”

BOOM!

The harsh report echoed across the Antonia’s crowded deck, silencing a hundred murmured conversations. This time, Howard took the frightened aid’s collar. “They’re EARLY!” he whispered harshly.

BOOM! This time, the roar was accompanied by a visible flash, the muzzle burst lighting the darkness. “HEAVE TO!” a woman’s voice shouted over a loudspeaker, “AND PREPARE TO BE BOARDED!” The pirate vessel, Captain Kidd, came alongside the Antonia. The ramshackle fishing trawler was crudely decorated, with shreds of sail dangling from her mast, a comical row of homemade cannons at the rail, and the obligatory Jolly Roger flag hanging limp in the still night air. “AWAY, ME HEARTIES, AWAY!” the woman’s voice screeched.

A number of figures came over the rail, toy cutlasses waving as they rushed to take the Antonia. One, a tall, roguishly handsome man with brown skin and dreadlocks, swung aboard on a rope, a plastic dagger clinched in his teeth. He landed among party guests who laughed and cheered his arrival, bare feet touching down soundlessly on the teak decking. “WHO BE ‘DE FOUNDER OF DIS FEAST?” his musical island accent demanded of the crowd.

...to be continued…

Firefly - Second 'Verse

STORY NOTE:

The third and final day of the crew's shore leave passes into night. Abby hightailed it off the boat, this time in company with Elias and Imani. That's an odd group, Yuri thought to himself as he made ready to spend his own evening off and away with Edina.

OOC: We're now slipping into the final night, folks. My apologies for the delay in dropping a JP some of us worked on. I'll make up for that with the first installment, sight after a word from our sponsors...

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Shore Leave Day 3 - Early Morning

With a terrifying roar, the huge bear pummeled its’ way down the sloping ridge. Mei Lin felt her legs go to rubber at the sound, but still she ran, crashing down through snow laden boughs as the giant closed the distance. “Run,” her father’s voice filled her mind. “Fast as you can.”

He was close. Too close. Right behind her. She could hear the heavy thump thump thump of his paws in the snow, and the growling rumble of each breath taken. The fleeing child ran downward, her little legs no match for the locomotive barreling in hot pursuit. Ahead lay the pike, it’s bottom rising up from the log on which she’d propped it. Mei Lin fought the urge to look behind her. This was it. This was how she’d die.

The bear roared again, this time lunging forward, it’s gigantic body taking flight. Mei Lin also sprung, her tiny frame landing atop the pike which gave way, dropping her face first into the snow. The weapon’s fire hardened tip rose into the air, its’ lethal point straight and true as the predator’s immense bulk…

“Hey. Look who’s back!”

Abby lifted eyes from ‘er book to see Yuri, bath robed an’ bare footed, headin’ fer tha showers. ”Ni hao,” she answered.

He stopped, his bundle of fresh clothes and toiletries tucked under one arm. “No more waitressing antics?” the first mate offered a smile. “I was gonna bring Edina by.”

“Nope,” the girl shook ‘er head. “Vic’s closed tahday. Somethin’ ‘bout his religion, and he cain’t do no work nor even switch on a light.” She’s sittin’ in the galley, Injun style on a chair, still wearin’ them boxers an’ tee shirt she liked sleepin’ in. “Don’t rightly think I could tolerate such a thing,” she offered.

“It’s called Shabbos,” he replied, “the day of rest. So, since your little friend’s off today, do you two have plans…or was it just a one night stand?”, he teased.

“Swear tah Buddha,” Abby groused, “if y’all’d spend more time gettin’ us work an’ less time worryin’ ‘bout who’s at my nethers we’d all be a sight better off.”

Yuri laughed. “Sorry, we can’t help ourselves,” he chuckled. “Our little girl, all grown up. Makes us proud.”

“Makes yah bunch ‘o’ pervs is what it does,” the deckhand give a snort. “But since yer keepin’ such a watch, tha answer’s no. Ain’t havin’ no tumble with Lorraine. Jest lotsa laughs, is all. So,” she changed subject, “yah see that mule Cap’n brought back?”

China Doll’s first mate nodded. “Just from a distance. Edina and I had just gotten back from a big to-do at the museum. Looked a little rough around the edges.”

“True that.” Abby laid ‘er open book down on tha table. “Looked like she had tha ever lovin’ la shi run outta ‘er. Can’t wait tah know what Elias thinks.” Her expression shifted, eyes gone all knowin’ as a crooked smile lifted ‘er cheeks. “So, you an’ Edina, huh?” she asked as that smile sprouted into a grin. “An’ did y’all…grow up? Did’ja make me proud?”

“Oooh, touche,” Yuri laughed and shook his head. “I will say we might’ve gotten the boat a plum job. If Cap’n signs off, we could be covered for the next three months.”

“Doin’ what?” Word ‘o’ such charter had ‘er ears pricked up proper.

“Ever run a jackhammer in an EV suit?”

Her eyes widened. “Fer true? We got salvage? In tha black? I git tah work outside? What’re we goin’ after?”

The girl can sure put two and two together, he thought as his lifted hand stifled a barrage of questions. “Hold on, you know Cap’n likes to tell the crew about our jobs,” he smirked. “Lat’s not steal his thunder, dohn mah?”

“C’mon!” she whined. “I ain’t gon’ tell. An’ I promise tah act all surprised when he fills us in.”

Yuri wanted to laugh at the excited girlchild before him. “I promise,” he answered, “you’ll get all the four-one-one no later than tomorrow. In the meantime, you’ve still got a day of shore leave. Use it. That’s an order.”

“Yes, sir,” Abby done said all reluctant. “Hear anythin’ from Alana?”

“Not a peep,” he said. “I did get a wave from Tommy. He’s leavin’ the boat.” At her unvoiced question, Yuri continued, “turns out the dude ranch he’s staying at needs a head wrangler and all around cowboy. Not to mention his childhood sweetheart is working there, so he wants to give that a shot.”

Abby’s ‘bout tah speak up on lookin’ fer a new pilot til all of a sudden Edina showed up. Difference was she din’ come upstairs from ‘er passenger room. This time, she come from tha forward passage…crew quarters.

“Hi, Abby!” the boat’s cook greeted her deckhand. Edina wore an oversized sweatshirt and a pair of cut off sweatpants. “I’ll get some coffee going. You up for breakfast?”

Abby didn’ answer with nothin’ but a cheshire cat grin an’ a look what screamed ‘BUSTED’ at Yuri. “I’m so proud. Our lil’ boy done growed up,” she said afore laughin’ out loud.

Edina stopped, her eyes darting from one to the other. “Did I miss something?”

“I’ll tell you later,” Yuri said before hastily retreating below deck.

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Strolling Home - Day 2 Late Night

“Well,” Yuri sighed as they stepped into the night air. “That was…an evening.” He led Edina to a boardwalk facing the beach. “Sorry.”

She fell in at his side. “It wasn’t so bad,” she shrugged. “I mean…the period dance lessons were kinda fun…weren’t they?”

“Yeah,” he quipped. “At least until I learned I have no sense of rhythm.”

“Oh, that’s not true!” Edina gave his shoulder a playful nudge. “You got the beat alright. More important?” She stopped, turning toward him. “You didn’t drop me, Yuri!”

He shook his head with a rueful laugh. “Oh, that poor woman. Her husband’s on the couch tonight, I’ll wager.”

“My money’s on the back porch,” she snickered. The couple set off again, their shoes clicking softly on the weathered planking. The moment’s silence between them was companionable. When it happened, Edina’s hand slipping into Yuri’s seemed the most natural thing in the ‘verse. “So,” she spoke up, “you think Captain will take the job?”

“Hard to say,” he tried to sound casual as her fingers twined with his. “This one’s a long way from our stock in trade. Still,” the first mate thought out loud, “the notion of keeping the crew fed and working for three whole months? Even if the coin’s not great, that’s a thing to ponder.”

“But an asteroid,” Edina countered. “Well outside the ‘verse. That’s a cause for some nerves, to be sure.”

Yuri gave her hand a gentle squeeze. It seemed funny, a grown man like himself finding thrill in the simplest act of affection. “We’ll have what we need. Plenty of fuel, enough food. On the up side, out there as we’d be, it’ll be hard for any claim jumpers to slip up on us unannounced. But again,” he chuckled. “Not my call. So,” he paused near a stairway the led down to the sand,, “I know a lot of nights like this include a walk on the beach.” As their eyes met, he asked, “what do you think?”

She glanced down the wooden steps. Beyond, the beach was lit by a glowing moon which chased clouds across a brilliant night sky. It was the picture postcard view of a traditional romantic moment… “How about,” she countered, “we save this for tomorrow night? I’m feeling like shorts and barefoot is the way to do that…not to mention I’m ready to be out of these heels.”

“Shiny,” he turned toward the street. “Wouldn’t mind ditching the suit, myself.”

“I mean,” she backtracked, “I’m good for a walk on the beach, if that’s what you want.”

The grip of his hand was encouraging. “Believe me,” he said as they made for the spaceport, “Tomorrow night’s perfect. After my time aboard The Mick I take the ocean in small doses.”

She nodded slowly as they walked together. “I used to walk the beach at night on New Melbourne…mainly when my husband was at sea. Folk I know thought that was so romantic of me…the sailor’s wife and all, walking the shoreline until his return. But it wasn’t like that,” Edina’s tone darkened as they strolled the darkened street. “Not at all. I was trapped, in that town, in that awful apartment, in that marriage. Terrified of what he’d do when his fishing boat returned. What part of me or my housekeeping he’d find fault with,” she muttered. “Just what type of drunk he’d be when he decided to come home. Happy drunk? That was okay. Horn-dog drunk?” she raised an eyebrow. “Tolerable. Usually quick and then he was out like a light. But angry drunk,” she stifled a shiver at the memory of those black nights. “I could just see it in his face when he came through the door. No amount of kindness, no amount of seduction…none of it worked when he turned up with a set jaw and a balled up fist.” Sensing Yuri’s dutiful silence, she concluded, “so walks on the beach sorta became a refuge. The last place I felt like I had a choice. I guess,” she concluded, “they lost their romantic appeal for me. Sad, I conjure. Maybe I should give that another go.”

She left him struggling for words. Everything that came to Yuri’s mind, from overblown pronouncements of the kindness Edina deserved to hot bluster about her abusive husband, just felt ridiculous. She didn’t need his assurances; he understood that on a deeper level. Yet still, her shared pain should be met with something. In the end, he finally opted for the simplest words of all. “I’m sorry, Edina,” he shook his head as they walked past darkened storefronts. “You didn’t deserve any of that.” He could’ve left it there…should have, his reasoning mind protested, but in that moment, Yuri’s emotions held sway over his mouth. “If I could make it better…”

“You already have.” Her fingers tightened their hold, as he felt their electricity course through his chest. “So listen,” her tone brightened, “I did a little meandering on the cortex today.”

“What’dja find?” he asked.

“Just the place we’re gonna wrap up our shore leave,” she swung their entwined hands as they walked. “It’s called Joy’s Mooring. Just your basic shack built on an old pier. Fresh seafood, tall drinks, and,” Edina nudged him with a playful hip, “reggae music to dance to.”

She’d changed the subject. He couldn’t find fault in that, nor would he press her to open up the book of her life until she was good and ready. He’d heard about Edina’s first days aboard China Doll. Abby’d shared the tale of the wounded, bruised woman who locked herself into her cabin for days. “Took ‘er food an’ drink,” the girl had shared. “She’s jest grateful tah git some space without folk botherin’ ‘er.” Comparing the Edina who strolled hand in hand with him to the damaged woman in Abby’s tale was a difficult leap for him, especially having witnessed her blossoming into both shipboard life and earning her place among China Doll’s crew. That face, he thought of her lively eyes, teasing smile, and the smooth mocha skin he longed to touch, how does anyone decide to hurt her? “Sounds like I’m picking up a pair of shorts tomorrow,” Yuri answered with a pleasant chuckle. “Didn’t know you knew what reggae music was.”

“Lived in a seaside town,” she replied. “Reggae, ska, calypso…they never get old.”

“Mmmm,” he smiled. “Can’t wait to begin your jazz education.” Without thinking, Yuri lifted Edina’s hand, pressing his lips to the back. “Sorry,” he stammered. “I had no idea I was gonna do that.”

“Yuri Antonov,” Edina stopped to face him. “Did you just apologize for kissing me?”

“Um…yes? I conjure I did.”

In response, her hands came up, rising to cradle the back of his neck. Edina’s face lifted toward his, her eyes fixed upon his as they moved together. “Now you have to make it up to me.”