Xandrya

Firefly - Second 'Verse

The 411 - Galley Meeting, Part Two

OOC: Part 2 of a JP/Collab from @Xandrya, @Bugman, @Little Bill, @wanderingwolf, and @sail3695

Dear.’ Strike One. Leastways he didn’t call ‘er ‘Sweetie.’ Abby mighta tried tah bust some silver outta Boone’s mouth if he done that.

She’s ‘bout tah call Fèihuà on tha whole ‘somebody-done-died-an-hurt-my-heart’ spiel til he come clean an’ fessed up tah doin’ tha killin’ hisself. Abby had no truck with that. Killin’ was killin’. Ain’t nobody lived in tha black weren’t on reg’lar terms with folk bein’ kilt. Hell, she’s fifteen when she popped a pair ‘o’ Reavers her own self. She din’ know why Boone killed that Dan with them thumbs. Weren’t none ‘o’ her business.

But who’s flyin’ tha boat she’s in? Uh….yeah! That was a matter of some concern…’specially when it sounded like Cap’n signed off real easy like on a man ain’t never actually done tha thing. No need tah come tha acid with Boone. Instead, she fixed ‘er eyes on Cap’n, hopin’ fer all tha world he might conjure a great big WHAT THA SAM HILL YAH THINK YER PLAYIN’ AT? reachin’ his way across tha table.

Straightening up on her chair, Imani took a quick glance around to gauge the reactions of some of her fellow crewmates. “Well, we’re happy you’re with us, Boone,” Imani spoke up, offering as sincere of a smile as she could muster. “As long as you get us to each location in one piece, there won’t be any quarrels ‘tween you and I.” She took another sip of her tea before replacing the cup on the table. Here was to Strand exceeding the expectations of his captainly duties.

Yuri’s eyes were focused on the little screen in his hands. 3 meter aluminum truss, 90 pieces, he scanned the list. 6 way corner blocks, 12 pieces, weldable hinge plates, 26 pieces. He hadn’t been watching the crew, but the overall tone of conversation had remained easy. He’d heard the strike of Elias’ marker to his white board without follow up to Boone’s answer, as well as questions from Lyen and Abby. 6 chain hoist, 2 ton capacity, 32 exploding bolts @ 12.7mm. He followed the quote line for line, nodding contentedly, until a substitution request caught his eye.

Laser weld pkgs are out of stock. I have 4 EB7 kits. Acceptable?

Electron beam welders weren’t quite as friendly or quick as their laser counterparts, but he and Elias would have no trouble handling them. Both Cal and Abby were at least nodding acquaintances with spot welding, so they could be brought up to speed. EB7’s are fine, Yuri’s thumbs tapped out the response. Got an addition, he continued. Do you have any XXL flight chairs?

Cal Strand, still leaning against the galley’s table, watched the eyes of the crew as they took Boone up on his offer for answers. Abigail’s reaction brought a smirk to his face, behind the stoked ember of his cigarette. He read her message loud and clear, but he couldn’t help but feel tickled at the red rising in her eyes.

‘Til this point, the Captain had been listening as a bystander, but he did have a curiosity to voice. Turning in his lean, Strand met eyes with the pilot. “What’s with all the crossin’ and prayin’? You some sort of Shepherd on the side? We already got one ‘holy’ body onboard, and this boat can only take so many morals.” Over his shoulder, Cal shot a wary glance at Sister Lyen who met his gaze with a sincere smile. Strand quickly returned his attention to Boone.

Boone shook his head with a sheepish smile. “No sir, Mr. Cal, I’m no Shepherd.” He shifted in his boots once more, clearly struggling to put his thoughts into words, pausing for a few moments before continuing.

“I did a lot of nasty things to people. No two ways about it. Left me with a lot of nasty memories when I went in and not much else. Sittin’ on all that nastiness, with nothing to do but reflect on it, day in and day out…” He shrugged, casually tossing his hefty hands in the air, “The only way I could forgive myself was to find out that I had already been forgiven. A long time ago, on a far-away desert on another planet, by a savior willing to die for what he knew I’d do.” He sighed, looking past the captain at some unseen memory. “That was the only way I could really reflect in the mirror and not smash it, I s’pose.”

Well, that’s that. Abby seen ‘erself on tha losin’ end agin. Capn’s lookin’ at ‘er over his cigarette like she’s tha butt of ‘is joke or sumpin’. Man had a way ‘o’ bein’ one arrogant sumbitch an’ takin’ pleasure seein’ her git tweaked. For sure they’s more tah this lil’ story…jest enough tah please him watchin’ his deckhand all lathered. Yeah, she conjured, he got me agin. Droppin’ her expression from ‘volcano’ tah ‘one eyebrow cocked,’ Abby leaned back in ‘er chair an’ emptied ‘er soda.

She’s ‘bout tah cut loose a powerful belch ‘til Edina give her tha eye. Abby thought tha world of Edina, ‘cept fer times like this when she gits all ‘Big Sister.’ Figgers, she mused all glum like as she swallowed tha burp. Ole Cut Throat there jest sweet talkin’ ever’body an’ I’m tha one’s gotta mind muh manners…

The room had gone quiet. Absorbed as he was in the developing equipment manifest, Yuri had taken no notice, until the nudge of a foot upon his ankle roused him from his study. Edina met his eye with arched brows and a slight incline of her head toward the Captain. Cal’s eyes delivered his order with crystal clarity.

Wrap this up.

“Um,” Yuri’s mouth fell open, “right. You’re all gonna have plenty of time to get to know Mr. Boone, but we’ve got a job to prep. Elias, Abby,” he turned to face the mechanic and deckhand, “after we’re done at the Skyplex, the three of us are gonna spend a lot of time in EV suits. Make sure you’ve got one fitted and QC’d.”

The first mate’s attention fixed upon both China Doll’s new medic and her galley hand. “Imani, Edina,” he continued, “we have to stock heavy. Conjure up your shopping lists to keep us for two months.”

That startled the crew. As he lifted a hand to quiet the galley, Yuri read surprise, alarm, even consternation. More intriguing was the keen excitement projected from two pairs of eyes. “Doc,” the colloquialism nearly tripped his tongue as he tried it out for Imani, “if one of ours gets hurt or sick, we’ll be weeks away from any dirtside med. You’ve got leeway to beef up the medbay to handle more serious stuff. Think on it, and let’s sit down before we make the Skyplex. Edina,” Yuri glanced her way, “You need to load us up on protein paste and foodstuff bars. Captain’s signed off on real coffee, the tea you like, and your favorite sodas, so everyone tell Edina what you want. But here’s the kicker.”

He paused. Once certain of everyone’s attention, Yuri said, “a Skyplex is nothing but eyes and ears. Everything we’re picking up would look normal for anyone provisioning a mining camp. That’s our story, if anyone tries to play twenty questions.” He tucked the little cortex reader into his pocket as he continued. “Most pirates won’t want to mess with all the heavy metal we’re loading. But if they get wind we’re hauling extra food and meds, that makes us a sexy target…which is why we’re gonna buy our provisions in dribs and drabs. Every one of us,” Yuri’s eyes swept the table, “will get a grocery list to take care of…pilot and mechanic included.”

He rose from his chair. “There’s a powerful lot we’re not telling you right now, but we will…once the Skyplex is in our wake. ‘Til then, get your preps and lists started for a long haul. Abby, let the passengers out to play.”

Yuri watched as the crew all stood. Abby was the first to leave, her face a tumble of emotions as she made for the stairs. From the others he read curiosity, reticence, intrigue. The tall mechanic’s eyes broadcast a deepening interest over word of his upcoming EV. “Boone,” he caught the hulking pilot on his way to the cockpit. “You’ve got your course to the Skyplex. We’ve got an extra fifteen percent of fuel beyond reserve for this run. You’re clear to get some maneuvering practice while we’re under way.”

China Doll’s crew dispersed, leaving Yuri to follow the Captain to his quarters, and some serious discussion.

Firefly - Second 'Verse

_{Current mood}

---

She smiled a little too sweetly as she crossed her arms in front of her. “Sure, Grady, let’s have this nice fellow—Katya motioned towards Dorian—join your shenanigans and maybe then I can finally live my life in peace!” There was enough sarcasm in her voice to serve up an entire floor of guests. Her face then dropped. “Get out,” she shook her head, “you’re not welcomed here again ‘til father allows it.” Katya moved with a purpose as she walked to Dorian. “If you ever attempt to recruit one of my customers again, I’ll damn make sure to draw up a no trespass with your name on it.” The threat was followed by her placing a hand on her brother’s back to show him the door.

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Katya Voss

Katya placed the empty glass on the counter between them two. She reached for his hand for a friendly shake, noticing the multiple calluses present once contact was made. Years of hard labor, she assumed. "The honor and pleasure's all mine," Katya smiled, "I ain't going to stop singing you praises anytime soon...payback for saving my life-"

A moment later her brother walzted in; Katya's mood instantly dropping. The way he casually complimented her nearly set her off, as if she didn't have a weapon pressed against her head a minute ago. "They won't be back, period. Do what you gotta do and rid them from my life...and this bar too." Katya was only a few years older than her brother, yet he rarely held her in high regard. He never listened, and that put a strain on their relationship.

"If it wasn't for this man right here I could have been good as dead." She turned on her heel, a stern talking to wouldn't stop her from preparing the promised drink. "You wouldn't have raised a finger before that man killed me," she took a jab. Maybe not well-deserved, but she was angry enough. "I want you out for good, or at the least until you handle your business entirely." Katya didn't meet his eyes, focusing instead on pouring measured amounts of alcohol on the glass between her and Dorian.

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Katya Voss

“I ain’t wanting her,” both his arms came up in surrender, palm and thumb securing the pistol in a loose grip with no signs of the pointer on that trigger. A sudden, smug expression for show to likely conceal his racing heart as he stepped back and away. “All for ya friend, she’s lookin’ like a fine lay,” he winked, and that’s the last that was heard from him as he concealed the weapon and turned on his heel to leave without causing further mayhem. Katya finally let out a sigh of relief, using the chairback to lean on as she gathered her thoughts. Where would she even begin to thank her customer?

“I apologize about that, he came looking for my brother…clearly not the saint of the family.” She watched him put away his own revolver too, eyeing the weapon until was out of sight. “Don’t know how to thank you enough,” Katya gazed down at her hands, the trembling dwindling down, “but your next drink is on me. Least I can do for you scaring away that ruffian.”

One warm smile later, and she motioned for him to follow her. Katya had led him back to his seat as she walked around behind the counter. “I can make you another one of what you’re having or I can make you a special one strong enough to have you forget a couple of faces by morning time.” She disappeared momentarily as she leaned down to reach for a clean glass. “What will it be?”

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Katya Voss

Wiping off the remaining table, Katya had all patrons but that one in the lavatory out of the premises. He’d been kind enough to advise he would be quick with his business. In drunk speak, one could say there was plenty of freedom as to the meaning behind that statement. Katya flipped the rag over her shoulder to start lifting some chairs onto each table. Once more, the glamors of her newly-acquired barkeep gig left her to question why she had agreed to take over for her father. Given his old age, he was soon to be out of the business permanently and enjoy his senior years, but her no-good brother wouldn’t take over the business if he was to receive double the pay. He was too busy running scams and wasting his body away. ”You lost that job, might as well cover mine," her father would say in an attempt to convince her, and he was right. Katya would do anything to keep getting an income. Well, almost anything.

“Is that Grady boy hiding in here?” She heard from behind as something might solid was pressed against the back of her head. Of course. Her brother, Luka “Grady” Voss, had brought his troubles to the family once more. Katya slowly put the chair down with her back to the stranger still.

“He ain’t here tonight, might try him at home.”

“He wasn’t there either.”

Well then your luck’s up. Katya imagined breaking the neck of an empty beer bottle as she spun around and swung it at the man's neck, slicing it open in one clean swipe, blood cascading down to stain his clothing beyond saving. The desperate choking sounds as his knees buckled from his weight proving too heavy were satisfaction enough for Katya to walk off without a second glance.

"I—I don't know his whereabouts. We don't often see each other..."

Katya was terrified. She didn't know what her brother had done to this rival of his, but it mustn't have been good. Suddenly, Katya picked up on faint footsteps approaching, which meant this predicament she was in was about to get a whole lot worse or slightly better.

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Toweling up her hair, Imani closed in on her reflection. She tilted her head up just the slightest to stare at the small scar underneath her chin. She'd meant to get that removed, multiple times at that, but some job or 'nother always seemed to come up. And now, well, she was left with the sour thoughts of what had transpired that evening.

It was then the intercom came to life, making Imani glance away to listen to the message. The crew was to meet soon...perfect timing she supposed. At least she was clean now as not even half an hour earlier she was working up a sweat with her stretching and yoga to relieve some of her frustrations. To Imani, it mattered not whether she was partaking in some breathing exercises or she was engaged in a kickboxing match against someone twice her size; by the end, all the negative energy that had previously accumulated seemingly melted away.

Not wanting to be late, Imani put on some clothes and combed her hair, neatly parting it to one side. Taking a last glance at her reflection, the details from that night resurfaced.

15 years ago

---

Imani sat on the park bench, her eyes fixated upon a distant group of children at play. The setting sun painted a warm glow on the world around her. She sighed, the tension in her shoulders evident. Daniel approached cautiously, aware that their argument had reached a critical point.

"Imani," he said gently, taking his place beside her. "Can we talk this out?"

She shot him a glare, her frustration evident. "Talk about what, Daniel? The fact that you never listen? That each time I try to express myself, you only brush it off?"

He ran a hand through his hair, one nervous habit of his. "I get it, Imani, I do, just that sometimes I don't agree with your choices."

She shook her head, her gaze breaking away from his. "It's not about agreeing or disagreeing, it's about respecting me. You can't dismiss my emotions like they’re trash."

He sighed, realizing the gravity of the situation. “I apologize, Imani. It’s not my intent to dismiss your emotions...”

---

That was some of what she remembered prior to the sudden onslaught of gunfire that followed. Her expression was sad and reminiscent from that tragedy, but nonetheless she went off to the galley to see why they'd been summoned.

Firefly - Second 'Verse

No Words

The crew solemnly exchanged glances with one another. Somehow the reality hadn't quite settled on her yet, not entirely at least. Imani hadn't known the doc for all that long but if she were sure of something, it was that Alana was truly cared about. She cleared the scratchiness in her throat, silently tapping her index finger on the table. Mindlessly staring at her other hand resting on her lap, Imani figured it best to forgo offering some sort of response to future inquiries as to what'd occurred. The least she could do is offer that level of privacy to Captain Strand and his dearly departed.

Soon after Yuri was delegating work. He called her name and her blood ran cold. She stared at him blankly, feeling herself nodding her approval yet wishing to do anything but work the medbay. With a perceived sense of urgency, Imani got to her feet and walked out of the galley, leaving the chair halfway out with no intention of returning it to its intended position.

Once she arrived at the medbay, Imani stood at the doorway, staring inside. Walking into the medbay and handling Alana's gear and equipment would feel as if she were violating her sacred space. Nothing was further from the truth but it should go without saying that this simple assignment was certainly not at the top of her list, though she would nonetheless get it done.

Firefly - Second 'Verse

”The Breakfast Club” (Shoreleave Day 2 Morning)

JP/Collab from @Xandrya, @wanderingwolf and @sail3695

“I thought we were out of bacon?”

Edina looked up from her work to see Yuri across the galley’s work counter. She couldn’t help the contented smile that blossomed upon her face. “Well, I conjure it passed the smell test,” she replied. “Did you know that there are tons of recipes for protein paste? Sam hit the cortex and found this one,” she waved a spatula toward the brownish strips sizzling in a skillet. “Add the right seasoning and fry em up in lard…voila!” She offered him a piece from a serving plate. “Give it a try.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” The first mate tucked the clipboard under an arm before selecting a slice from the lighter colored stack. “What are those?” he asked, his faux bacon now used as a pointer. “The mistake pile?”

She lifted two strips from the pan, allowing a gentle shake to help the excess grease run off. “For Elias,” Edina said of the brittle, darker pieces. “Still guessing about his palate, but right now I think if I jack the seasoning way up and overcook a little, it helps his taste buds.” She paused, an expectant smile on her face as he chewed thoughtfully. “Well?” she quizzed after he swallowed the first morsel. “What do you think?”

With a slight lift to his brow, Yuri nodded and said, “It’s close.”

“How close?” She asked. “One to ten.”

“Seven…eight,” he waved an ‘iffy’ gesture. “I don’t conjure it’d ever make ten, but for ‘not bacon’, this is pretty good!”

“Uh huh…uh huh,” Edina nodded. With a glance toward the cortex reader on the countertop she asked, “what do you think, Sam? Should we dial it up?”

“We can,” the Boston accent rose from the little device. “The Alliance human physiology database reports that excessive seasoning of food will suffer a diminishing return from the taste buds on the tongue. Based on Yuri’s compromise score of seven-point-five, I’ve altered the recipe to achieve a hoped for outcome of eight-point-five to nine.”

“Mmmph,” Yuri reached for a cup. “So I’m your guinea pig,” he chuckled as he poured the fresh coffee. “Give you a refill?”

Edina took the pan off heat, setting it aside. “Please,” she answered. “Take our cups to the table and I’ll bring the bacon.” After peeling out of the cook’s apron, she brought 2 plates, a jar of ‘sorta’ mayonnaise, and a loaf of bread. “Sandwiches,” Edina piped up as she took her seat across from him.

“White bread?” Yuri cocked an eyebrow. “Isn’t that exclusively for our young deckhand’s ‘peebee-and-jays?”
“I don’t conjure she’ll mind.” With efficient hands she constructed two sandwiches, arranging the artificial repast into a crosshatch pattern between the bread slices. “B L T’s,” Edina said proudly, “minus the ‘L’ and the ‘T.’ Maybe we can afford those next time.”

Yuri took his sandwich with a grateful nod, going three bites in before he paused. “It’s good,” he encouraged after a swallow of coffee. “Compliments to the chef,” the mate raised his cup in toast.

“Chefs,” Edina’s cup met Yuri’s with a subtle clink. “Sam pulled the whole thing together. Just wait,” she giggled, “til I start trying to bake.” After a moment’s companionable silence she asked, “heard from the Captain?”

Yuri shook his head. “Told me he had to ‘see a man about a mule.’ That was yesterday,” he added before pulling a sip from his cup.

“Shouldn’t we check on him?” Concern washed over her face.

“From what he said, he and Sam are pretty much joined at the hip,” he answered. “If things go South I’m certain we’d know. But right now? With Alana in the wind? I think the best thing we can do is just give him space.”

“Think they’ll work it out?”

“Hope so.”

Imani paused for a split moment before walking into the galley. She'd overheard the conversation Edina and Yuri were having, or at least the end of it.

"Smells good." Walking past them, Imani eventually grabbed a plate and helped herself to three pieces of "bacon". She wasn't all too hungry and so didn't bother for a sandwich, though no doubt she was open to one in the near future.

"Curing a hangover? Because that's at least a couple of plates more."

Yuri loosed a chuckle. “Thank Buddha! Another guinea pig. Now the pressure’s off.”

“Not for you, it isn’t,” Edina fixed him with a mischievous eye before turning her gaze. “Hey Imani. Don’t listen to him,” she said. “We’re just trying out a recipe for Bacon Ala Protein Paste. Need coffee?” she asked.

Taking a bite, she smirked at the two. Imani thoroughly chewed the paste-turned-bacon that Edina had cooked up, and eventually, her approval was delivered with a subtle nod. "No complaints from me, actually. But hold the coffee, I prefer to warm up a cup later in the morning."

The smell was just divine, the nun thought, as she followed her nose to the galley. Her orange kasaya robe appeared in the entrance a moment later, and she laid eyes on Edina, Imani, and Yuri gathered around the table. “Mind if I join you?” she asked, as she surveyed the fruit the cook’s toils. Bacon! Or.. something like it? Lyen cocked her head as she took in the smell and sight of the fried, brown strips. They looked delicious, given they belonged to the various recipes Edina had been able to build with paste as their main ingredient.

In the days she’d spent aboard the China Doll, Ly had made her peace with taking a cup of coffee in the morning to get going, but yesterday, thanks to the Captain’s explosive display, she spied a small copper kettle that had been freed from the back of a tall cabinet. Her slender hands filled it now as she asked the group, “Anyone for tea?” ‘Tea’ was a generous term, but the loose, powdery leaves of some kind mostly passed muster.

"Tea sounds exquisite just about now," Imani smiled up at Sister Lyen.

“Shiny,” she replied. Water set over a flame, she joined the cook, the first mate, and the… well, she wasn’t exactly sure what Imani’s station was on the ship. Deckhand perhaps? She watched as the mayhaps-deckhand settled in with her plate. Lyen took a seat while she waited for the boil.

“Good morning, Sister,” Yuri greeted the nun before recoiling from a mild jab to the shoulder. “Hey!” he exclaimed at the light hearted affront, “what did I do?”

“That,” Edina replied as she rose to collect a fresh plate and silverware, “is for refusing to let me buy some decent tea.”

The first mate lifted his hands in supplication. “Yes, ma’am,” he grinned. “I have seen the error of my ways.” To Sister Lyen he offered, “since I’m now under new orders today, do you have a pref on tea?”

“Anything suits me,” she said, head tilting to the side in thought. With a finger in the air she belayed that, “Though I’m keen on green and oolong. Ooh, and honeybush!” Her almond eyes lightened, and she forced out a shallow cough, “but I’ll drink anything,” the nun fibbed.

“Honeybush,” he repeated, adding the three teas to a list on his cortex. “Got it. Imani?” Yuri’s eyes lifted. “Speak now or forever drink the Sister’s choices.”

"A honeybush sounds mighty fine if only for the sake of simplicity," she added as she pushed back the chair to get up, smiling to Lyen as she went. Imani went to fetch her canteen as she waited for the tea. "I'm sure the Sister's choice don't disappoint, not sure about yours, however..." Her back was turned to them, making her unable to get a glimpse of their reaction.

A confused Yuri traded glances with the boat’s ad hoc cook. “What?” he mouthed the silent question, to be met by an equally bemused Edina passing a hand over her head. “Uh,” he fumbled for a suitable reply, “she looks after all my choices,” the attempted quip emphasized with a pointed finger.

“First time I’ve heard that,” Edina cocked an eyebrow.

“It’s in your job description.”

“Ooooh,” she replied with an understanding nod. “Is that what you meant by ‘other duties as assigned?”

“Among other things,” Yuri chuckled, grateful for the rhetorical escape hatch. “Yes.”

“Note to self.” Edina arranged a place setting for the nun. “Always read the fine print. So we’re experimenting this morning,” she explained as more of the aromatic strips landed on Lyen’s plate. “How close does this compare to actual bacon? One to ten, ladies,” she said, “ten being ‘I can’t tell the difference’ and one as ‘what is this abomination?’ The cheapskate here,” she handed a wry grin to Yuri, “has already voted. What do you both think?”

“Thank you,” Ly said, surveying the appetizing substitute with her chopsticks. With a gentle tap, the protein-bacon cracked authentically into the carbon and she lifted a morsel to her mouth. The crunch was authentic, from what she could tell, only having eaten actual bacon a handful of times. As she moved the piece to either side of her mouth, the salt and the smokey flavoring from what she knew to be the hard work of seasoning, were more than enough to fool her taste buds. She started her response with a smile, lifting a hand to cover her mouth, “Edina, this is delightful. I’d say the only way I can tell it’s not bacon is because it tastes better than most of the soggy, stringy stuff I’ve had before this.”

"Oh, we're working with numbers now?" Imani let her head rest on her palm as she scratched her plate with her fork in no particular pattern. "A well-deserved eight I'd say."

”Ku,” Edina sipped her coffee. “Round Two will come tomorrow morning…unless we score an actual cook before them,” she smirked.

Yuri lifted an index finger, swallowing his food before he spoke. “Not sure that’ll happen,” he said. “Captain’s got a thing about folk who show initiative,” he said as he eyed the last remaining strip. “You took on the galley when Hook left, Edina. I’ve got a feeling he’ll be inclined to make it official.”

“Wow,” she answered, her smile sheepish toward Imani and Lyen. “I’m sorry about your luck, guys. While we’re talking food, will any of you be around for supper, or have you all got plans?”

As the tea’s boil made itself known with the telltale sound that the Japanese called ‘the wind in the pine trees,’ Lyen rose to join Imani and serve her. Ly replied to Edina as she approached the kettle, “I haven’t got any business on Pelorum; you’re stuck with me, I’m afraid.”

“Shiny,” Edina met Lyen with an easy smile. “I’m laying out dinner plates at four o’clock,” she explained, “because Yuri and I have passes to a shindig at a museum. So far, it’s you and Elias eating in tonight. I’ve already got him figured out,” she continued. “Any idea of what you might like, Sister?”

The nun contemplated the question for a moment, in light of what she knew Edina was capable of, especially with protein paste. Ultimately, her comfort food was rather simple: “I’m partial to noodles and broth–a little spice suits me just fine.” She flashed a grin at Edina as she took another bite of her bacon stand-in. “But I’m an easy customer when it comes to food; the monastery taught me a lot of things, but being picky was not one of them.”

Edina listened, taking Lyen’s preferences into memory before turning toward Yuri with imploring eyes. “Hey, since these good folk are all gonna have to suffer my protein paste recipes and canned everything else, you think maybe we could eek out some decent noodles and veg while we’re here?”

Having already opted to be ‘that guy,’ Yuri found himself beneath the directed gaze of the three women, caught red handed with the final strip of faux bacon in his fingers. “Well,” the first mate replied in an air of outsized thoughtfulness, “since you put it that way…and since I’m already under orders to go tea shopping today..why not?” His eyes flecked with humor as he shared a glance with the mocha skinned woman. “Give me a shopping list, but try to keep it limited to what one ignorant man can carry. Imani?” he steered the conversation. “Got a non-caviar food idea for tonight, or will you be out carousing?”

"Quite tempting the offer, and I don't see the harm in serving as a guinea pig once more before heading out for another adventure."

The nature of this planet meant that physical things and experiences were paramount to its inhabitants and those journeying here to partake. Still, off the beaten track, there were temples of her Order, but they were much too far to visit from the hub. She’d have to suffice with meditations and prayer aboard the China Doll, she conjured.

“Ready?” Lyen asked of Imani, her almond eyes checking for permission. A basket of the crumpled, black leaves landed in the woman’s canteen, then the ‘wind in the pine trees’ funneled into her cup. Afterward, she arranged her own cup.

"The aroma is divine..." Imani cupped her hands around the canteen to immerse herself in the scent. She found comfort in the warmth radiating to her palms. "I appreciate this Sister Lyen."

Sam listened to the easy goings-on through the keyhole of Edina’s cortex reader. She had long known that for a system such as herself, the demonstrable characteristics of empathy served as a key to unlock the mysteries of human emotion to digital intelligence. Upon collating the group dynamic through their tone and banter, Sam’s findings indicated a distinct absence of tension among the four. The varying levels of affability provided an overall result that she could describe as ‘friendly.’ The next step would be interpolation of those findings to determine the more nebulous ‘vibe,’ as Cal chose to describe it. While broader research was ongoing, simple hypothesis based upon this moment in time offered its’ own conclusion. Through application of those applied numerical values, S.A.M.A.N.T.H.A could experience the sense of inclusion…and contentment.

Firefly - Second 'Verse

A Friendship That Never Dies

JP/Collab from @Xandrya and @sail3695

She watched ‘em go. The student volunteers all come off in one’s an’ two’s. Some was wearin’ clothes they swapped with Anabaptists. Others took time on Bernadette tah rush off an’ buy ‘em some new things. But no matter how they’s dressed, all of ‘em was excited fer spendin’ a few days an’ their parents’ coin on Pelorum’s beaches.

Abby checked ‘em off on ‘er clipboard. Some waved an’ said goodbye. Some jest stalked on past like she weren’t there. Couple give ‘er the finger, what raised a laugh as they headed down the ramp toward one of them rickshaws all lined up tah haul ‘em off.

Last ‘o’ tha bunch was Christina, her as took Abby’s room fer tha ride. “Bout tah send a search party,” the deckhand cocked an eyebrow as the girl hustled up.

“I cleaned the room,” the student huffed as she hurried by. “Fresh bed linens and all mopped. Send me a wave when you start reading Harry…okay?”

“Sure’n I will!” Abby lifted a hand in farewell. She watched as Christina piled inta tha last rickshaw, ‘long with five others, afore it peddled off in tha settin’ sun. Tha boat was all theirs again. As she closed up ‘er clipboard, the deckhand conjured if she spent tahnight workin’, she’d have China Doll all squared by midnight tahnight. Rumor floatin’ about was Cap’n’s gon’ give ‘em all three whole days tah lollygag. She weren’t too sure jest how she’d go about fillin’ three days with no work…but Abby’s willin’ tah git it a go.

The girl turned in time tah see Alana. The doc was luggin’ what looked like all her worldly things in a medical bag and a big steamer trunk, edges sqwawkin’ as they’s dragged across tha cargo bay deck. “Alana?” she smiled after tha curious sight. “Can I lend a hand with that?”

She slowed her steps to an eventual halt an arm's length or two away from Abby, the trunk pushing against her given the incline. A more inconvenient time to run into the girl surely didn't exist... Alana wasn't looking to he completely truthful. In fact, she would outright have to lie to her friend since otherwise her departure would be that much harder to bear.

"I've got to stop at one of the clinics here as they're looking to get some equipment." That much was true for a lot of locations given the scarcity of medical supplies, and Abby was none the wiser.

“That’s a mighty load tah go draggin’ about,” the deckhand observed. “I’d offer yah tha mule…’cept we left ‘er behind on Osiris.” Abby looked tha trunk up an’ down, ponderin’ tha weight. “Tell yah what,” her face brightened. “We got us a hand truck. Make it scads easier goin’ where yer bound. I’ll put a strap on it, so that trunk won’t be partial to slippin’ off.”

She offered her the best smile she possibly could with a nod, trying to keep herself from shedding a tear. An awfully emotional moment as an unsuspecting Abby's willingness to help tore Alana's heart. Poor girl didn't know any better, and all of that just didn't sit right with her. She faced away, pretending to mess with the trunk in order to compose herself. "What would we all do without you? I'll tell you what, not a whole lot."

Abby give a chuckle over ‘er shoulder. “I reckon y’all’d be more at ease without havin’ tah keep patchin’ me back tahgether,” she said all cheerful as she went for tha kit. A half tick later, the deckhand came back, wheelin’ the hand truck before her. “Is it shiny tah tilt yer trunk on one end?”

Once permission came, the girl boosted the big case up, afore slidin’ the nose plate beneath. She run tha strap around the whole of it, ratchet teeth chatterin’ as she cranked it down tight. “Perty easy tah undo this,” Abby offered. “Jest squeeze this little bit inta tha strap handle an’ pop right loose.” She put a foot on the axle tah steady it, an’ pulled tha hand truck til its’ burden now balanced upon them wheels. “Yer ready tah rock an’ roll, Doc,” she held it for her friend to take charge. “I been hearin’ Cap’n’s gon’ grant us all three days’ shore leave,” Abby piped up. “Yew still up fer a beach day?”

"Looks as secured as it's gonna get." She tapped the side of the trunk with the toe of her boot before take possession of the handle. Talks of the beach came up, and once more Alana had to lie her way through a response. "What other beach if not Pelorum's, right? Lather up on plenty of sunscreen because that sun is awfully unforgiving...or so I've heard."

Abby give a smirk. “Red hair an’ pale skin’s a surefire sign ‘o’ gettin’ burnt. I’ll cover up good,” she promised. To her study, Alana looked a skosh distracted. Somethin’ in her eyes. Though still kindly in ‘er ways an’ words, the girl could suss they’s somethin’ eatin’ at ‘er. Somethin’ she weren’t keen tah share. Of course, ya fool, the deckhand chided ‘erself. She’s got somewheres tah be, an’ here yew are, boggin’ ‘er down.

“Either which way,” she said, “I’m sure Cap’n won’t let me set foot off this boat ‘til I got things all spic an’ span.” She smiled. “I’ll see yah when yer back.”

“You're good people, Abby," Alana reached for a hug, making it seem as casual as possible. She didn't want to leave the girl wondering whether her actions meant a final goodbye between them two. "You get this boat tidied up as best as you can, you hear? We don't want your fun in the sun to be dampened by a list of mediocre chores."

Alana then tugged on the trunk with a final wave, a tear sliding down her cheek once she faced away from her friend.

Firefly - Second 'Verse

”The Sun Don’t Always Shine…”

JP/collab from @Xandrya and @sail3695

Cal Strand appears courtesy of @wanderingwolf

“Ever wonder why an old dog likes layin’ in the sunshine?” his pa had once asked. After a shake of the son’s head, he’d said, “Cuz old dogs always see sunny days as gifts, young’un. You have a day when the sun’s shinin’ on you, make sure you don’t let it slip by.”

Pelorum lay ahead, a jewel of blue and green which steadily grew in the cockpit viewports. Tommy’d have China Doll skids down in about eight hours’ time. Ship was flyin’ right. Crew all seemed happy for the coming days…and thanks to the museum pieces in the cargo bay, Cal was proud to turn ‘em all loose with some coin in their pockets, It felt good all over, knowin’ they’d helped those Anabaptist folk move on to a proper life…but breakin’ even in the process made things that much sweeter.

“Abigail,” the captain caught sight of the young deckhand as he crossed the catwalk. “Kindly tell me you got some proper lollygaggin’ planned this time around?”

The teenager turnt incredulous eyes towards ‘er Cap’n. “Lollygaggin’?” She groused. “Yah seen whut them college folk done tah yer boat, sir? Whut with all tha all night parties an’ not pickin’ up after their selves? Not tah mention all tha humpin’ goin’ on? Gon’ take me a solid week tah git them rooms decent fer payin’ customers…” She stopped, drawn up short by Cap’n’s raised hand.

“Won’t order you to have fun…no, wait…I conjure I will,” Cal decided. “We’re skids down for five whole days. I order you to spend the first three of ‘em doin’ nothin’ productive…dohn mah?”

The girl looked all like a fish done flopped up on tha bank accidental like. “I’ll think on it, Cap’n,” she finally give a bit.

“Think hard. Hey, seen the doc?”

“Yeah,” Abby thowed a shoulder towards tha aft hatch. “She’s squarin’ up medbay.”

“Dandy,” Cal nearly bounced down the steps on the balls of his feet. “Sun’s shinin’ on this ole’ dog,” he smiled to himself as he made for the medbay…and Alana.

In a funny twist of events, her partner's savior needed a savior. That was her initial thought anyway as that girl Imani went on about how she rescued Cal, their "handsome" captain. Even though that was a while back when she went up to Alana in order to get checked out, the story that was told remained in her mind. Obviously Alana wasn't happy about the fact, especially with Cal making friendly comments about that other passenger.

After announcing himself with a quick “shave and a haircut” rap to the door, Cal leaned in. “Is this where the prettiest doc in the ‘verse works?” he grinned.

"Prettiest doc maybe, but not the prettiest woman." The sour tone of her voice indicated displeasure at his arrival, the point further expressed as she didn't turn around to greet him, but instead kept her eyes on her cortex. Alana figured he was attempting to make good with her, possibly out of guilt.

Cal Strand was ebullient. “Eye of the beholder, piàoliang de yīgè,” (pretty one) he quipped as he slid the medbay hatch shut behind him. “Have to tell you I’m pleased as punch how this all turned out. You, Hook, and Abigail really stepped up,” the proud grin held as he recalled the way this crew came together. “And Tommy? Then Quill…I’m hopin’ to get her to ride along with us a spell. And how about that Imani?” he asked, pleasure creeping into his tone.

Her eyes shifted upward from the screen, finally glancing at him. He was being smug about it too...

"So you fancy them then?" Alana played along, a smile forming as if she was genuinely taking interest in what Cal was saying, though how she felt inside didn't one bit match her expression. On the other hand, he was sharing plenty with her. "I would feel the same way if someone stepped up to get me out of a bad decision gone wrong."

Paloma Faith - Only Love Can Hurt Like This (Lyrics)

He couldn’t be rightly certain, seein’s how his gambler’s senses looked to need a bit of a tune, but something here felt just a might…off. Alana was smiling at him…he loved to see her smile. Hoped to see a lot more of that on Pelorum, in some little out of the way bungalow he’d find for them both. Well, maybe Sam would find it. Iceberg, Goldberg…

“Not sure ‘fancy’s’ the word I’m thinkin’,” the captain leaned casually, one hip against her work surface. “Like,’ mayhaps? ‘Feel good about hirin’?’ Yeah, that one,” he let himself snicker. “We’ll go with that. So, I was gonna…” he began, and just as quick on the draw, stopped. Alana was way too still just now. He’d tangled with that kinda still before. There’s that viper on Deadwood…he didn’t even see it til it struck at him. Worse yet, Fanny Lee Brochette’s cat. So still he thought it’s stuffed at first. At the time, he’s stretched out nekkid on her bed when it come flyin’ down off the bookshelf with aims to put claws to his bits…”Um Alana?” his voice softened as he felt like he’s walkin’ into the valley of the shadow of death, “is somethin’....not right?”

"Something is indeed not right..." her voice carried equal parts sadness and anger. Alana held his gaze as she went on. "You've barely noticed me these past few days...almost as if you were ignoring me. And come to find out, these new passengers seem to have left quite the effect on you."

For a moment, Alana wondered whether she was being high-strung about it all, but then she told herself he had been acting distant. No matter how busy Cal Strand had gotten in the past, he'd always made time for her, even if it was a simple note he left her on the sly. However, now it was looking as if their relationship was fizzling out, that which was in part thanks to their new guests.

This was not what he conjured to take place just now. Not at all. He realized right quick that talkin’ about what bikini she’d pack for a private getaway on Pelorum wasn’t even in the same county as what words’d be passin’ between ‘em next. “Aww, no, no, no,” Cal’s brow furrowed like a fresh plowed field as he turned square to face Alana. “It’s not like that at all,” he lifted earnest hands to signal his surprise. “This one was just real busy,” he stammered. “Real hands-on,” the captain protested. “Whole lotta movin’ parts to mind. I knew you were solid, appreciated that I did, and so I kept eyes on where they’re needed, was all.”

"Seems like a whole lotta fumblin' over words that don't communicate much..." Alana had watched the way his expression shifted as she had brought up what was currently bothering her. "If I'm being honest, Cal, that excuse just doesn't sit right with me." It was then she stood up, placing the cortex down and looking at the device as she attempted to find the right words to continue with their conversation. "I get it...being stuck out here in the black and constantly seeing my face...who wouldn't get bored," she shrugged casually, giving off the vibe that their current troubles happened on the regular.

“Bored?” Cal’s moment of shock was bein’ fast overtaken with another feelin’ altogether. “Bored? You’re sayin’ this is about me lookin’ at somebody else? Gorramit, girl, which one you thinkin’? That Quill’s drop dead gorgeous! Yuri can’t put two words together ‘round her. Not her? Shiny!” he stormed. “Well, who else?” Cal demanded. “Edina? She’s mighty fetchin’, if I do say so…’specially since she stepped up for this boat not once but twice! Abigail? Tell you now I love that girl to death…she who you’re gettin’ panties in a twist over? Nah,” his anger cracked a rueful smile. “It’s Imani,” Cal nodded his head. “Gotta be her, cuz if it ain’t, all I can conjure is you think I’m sweet on Yuri. Mind you, he’s pretty, but…”

"Well don't be shy now! If you're longing after the whole ship, you coulda just said so!" Alana was practically shouting, her voice carrying outside for any wandering soul to pick up on, but she was saddened and angered by the words being exchanged and so she did not concern herself with the possibility of having an audience.

Alana was quite aware she was exaggerating the situation, her approach in the midst of a heated dispute was stretching the truth. It only made matters worse, but oftentimes her arguments were never the voice of reason. "We've constantly had targets on our backs, and how many times have I had to patch someone up here in the past? But now you were just too busy?" She was practically throwing the blame on him, being caught up in the moment Alana didn't care for his feelings nor the repercussions of her actions. "Save it for someone who'll buy it!"

Cal’s rising temper was walkin’ right toward places he knew he shouldn’t oughtta go…but bein’ named a liar, a lecher, and now havin’ his captaining called out by the one person he cared for the most? What Alana’s throwin’ in his face was the sort ‘o’ talk heard over card tables just before pistols got jerked. “So you’re sayin’ if some feh feh pi goh (babboon’s ass crack) pulls a trigger or one ‘o’ mine gets sideways in a saloon, that’s all my fault?” He jabbed his finger down, tapping the worktop in time as he growled, “That’s why you’re here!”

He’d squared up, his breathing deliberate as his eyes remained fixed upon Alana. All the while, the inner voice of reason cried warnings against the words erupting from his mouth. But for the blood roaring in his ears, Cal couldn’t hear a thing. “Out there? That’s the ‘verse!” He waved a hand toward the closed medbay hatch. “An’ we don’t get much by way ‘o’ choosin’. Best I can do is keep me an’ mine in foodstuffs an’ a bit ‘o’ coin…an’ the promise I’ll get their hurt patched when somethin’ goes South. Whattya want, Alana? I should put a suggestion box in the galley?”

"Oh I got plenty suggestions for ya Cal of things you can go do!" her fists turned white from the tension. So much running through her mind, not enough words to lay it out for him. "As for me, I can get out of your hair as you seem to be plenty busy these days..." Her sarcasm was full force, and once it got her started it wouldn't let up. "Ya didn't need to string me around just to fix your mistakes, I would have done it for the pay either way! But hey, least you got your options now!"

Now his jaw’s set tight. In future days when he’d think about this moment, Cal would admit to himself that he’d let his temper off the leash when he should oughta have backed down with her. But as Alana’s standin’ there layin’ into him, only thing on his mind was the fact that once a dog’s in the fight, there’s no turnin’ back ‘til the thing is done. “It’s a job,” he spat, “not a ruttin’ conscription. You came aboard this boat under your own steam, Alana. You get a yen to walk off, that’s all on you. But til you do,” his eyes hardened, “you do your gorram job and I’ll do mine. Dohn mah?”

That look...that's the one that did her in. Alana bit her tongue, tightening her jaw as she looked him in the eye.

"Mei wen ti." Her voice was back down to normal. She motioned towards the hatch behind Cal without breaking contact. "Then get, you're in my workspace and I'd like to start organizin' prior to my departure."

It took a great deal of effort not to break down right in his presence, but she held her ground surprisingly well.

Cal knew then and there was things he should say. He knew this wasn’t right, knew in his heart what he wanted most, but staring down this obstinance he wasn’t like to swallow a morsel of pride to try ‘n’ put things right. Neither is she, his churlish mind retorted, as that little part ‘o’ him begged not to let this go as was. He stood there a spell, nostrils flared an’ eyes ablaze. When it became obvious that Alana had nothin’ more to say, he broke the silence. “Shiny. Pelorum in eight hours. I’ll send Yuri by with your share.” That being all he was like to say, Cal opened the hatch, making for the stairway topside.

Soon as her ex-lover was no longer in her presence and she was left all alone with nothing but the slow, steady hum of one of the overheads, Alana turned her back as if Cal was still there. A tear came out, followed by another, and she scrambled for a tissue to keep her face as dry as possible. Their relationship was over just like that, and her time aboard too. She supposed if she was going without a home again, it might as well be in Pelorum.

"I need to work, I need to work—" she paced, her head in a fog making her go in circles. Alana looked at where Cal had stood a few moments prior and her chest started heavin' up and down as the memories of them two flooded her consciousness. "I need to work..."