[img]https://i.imgur.com/wWxbsOD.jpg[/img] [img]https://i.imgur.com/nalNq9e.jpg[/img] [i][b]“Here!” the First Mate shouted as they skidded to a halt. Her hands trembled as she threw the hatch couplers. “Get in!” she barked as the pursuing animal howls and gunshots grew ominously closer. “What do we do?” Bã ba gasped as he clambered into the escape pod. “Strap in!” She ordered, before a hail of gunfire forced her to take cover behind the open hatch. “Saskatoon’s below us. There’s a garrison at Yellowknife…’bout two hundred miles East. Pod’ll ride their RDF beacon all the way down!” The escape pod was built for one. Bã ba pulled his daughter close, the tight straps clicking home as an automated voice counted down. “Launch in five..four...three..” Mei Lin glanced over her shoulder. Through the viewport, she could see Cavendish, the First Mate. The woman lifted her hand, a last farewell before those things were on her. It was all so fast...muzzle flashes from her gun strobe lit the violent struggle. A desperate hand slapped the pane, leaving in its’ trail a filmy smear of blood. Suddenly, a face appeared, eyes ablaze as their owner tried to force the hatch. At first she thought it had to be a mask; the girl had never seen such a blood spattered twist of madness and rage before. And then they were gone, hurtling through the void with only a tiny window to see the planet below. Mei Lin thought about Reavers, and all the tales she’d been told. “They’re wrong,” she considered as Bã ba’s heart pounded in her ear. “They’re so much worse.”[/b][/i] --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- China Doll’s laundry gear was tucked in amongst her water and waste recyclin’ tanks. Abby sat cross legged atop the churning washer, eyes glued to the open novel on her lap. Jest out of the shower, she’s barefoot in a fresh pair ‘o’ chinos an’ a tee shirt what read [i]Cleo’s of Valentine - Come For The Faroe Game...Stay For The Sushi![/i] She’d towelled her hair dry, but weren't a soul alive couldn’t see need fer a good brush. So deep inta Mei Lin’s harrowin’ escape was she that even Ms. Baker walkin’ up didn’t catch her ear. “What you readin’? Oh, sorry,” she chuckled, “didn’t mean to scare you.” The girl tucked her book away. “S’alright,” she answered. “First of tha [i]Mei Lin[/i] series.” “Ooh,” the mechanic nodded, “my girls loved those. How far along are you?” “Jest started. Reavers took their boat.” Baker smiled as she removed the hood. [i]”Mi esposo…[/i] sorry, my husband,” she checked herself, “heard me readin’ that to our youngest. He was afraid it’d give her nightmares. But she loved it. Pretty sure I owe Mei Lin the credit for teachin’ my daughter to read.” Abby nodded. “It’s mighty fine. Hope tah finish afore we set down. Wanna find a bookshop fer tha next one.” “You could read ‘em all with a cortex.” “Don’t got a cortex. Well, not one as I can use at will. Sure’n they’s a reader or a source box tha Cap’n’ll let me borrow,” the deckhand said. “Still gotta look up trit-ee-um an’ see-see-um one three seven.” Ms. Baker fumbled through the folds of her robe. “Here,” she held a gleaming piece of sleek metal up to the light. “Use mine.” “Don’t wanna break it…” “It’s not a holy relic,” the mechanic smiled. “Was gonna get another one on New Melbourne, anyway. Go on, use it,” she laid it across the girl’s open palm. “But there’s a price.” This cortex felt all shiny...all modern...like somethin’ she weren’t allowed tah touch. Uncle Bob had always talked it down. [i]”Cortex ain’t good fer’ nothin’ ‘cept lies an’ nekkid folk humpin”.[/i] But she’d found other stuff...stuff she could use, like word on planets an’ fixin’ things cheap...though watchin’ nekkid folk humpin’ got her thinkin’ that tha actual doin’ might be better. She cocked an eyebrow. “Ain’t there always?” “Uh huh,” Baker grinned. “While you’re on the cortex, look up a Firefly radion core, oh-three-K-six-four. You got that?” Abby tilted her head. “Oh-three-K-six-four. Ah’ll find ‘er...but why?” “Cause I’m gonna ask you questions,” the woman used a sing song voice as she turned. “I gotta go see the doc. Back in two shakes.” “Look out fer them horn-dogs.” Abby was already engrossed. [i]R-A-D-I-O-N-C-O-R-E…[/i] “Horn-dogs?” “Two of ‘em,” the girl said. “Makin’ eyes on all tha women. Been askin’ ‘bout yew an’ yer crates.” Baker turned. If Abby hadn’t been all dazzled with the cortex, she mighta seen the hard look in tha woman’s eyes. “Is that a fact?” “Sure’s Ah’m sittin’ here.” [i]0-3-K-6-4[/i] “What do these fellas look like?” the mechanic lifted her hood, plunging her face into shadow. A whole world ‘o’ pitchers an’ names was lit up in fronta her. Abby conjured the core in them pitchers was jest like one on tha upper deck. “One’s tall,” she said, her eyes down on the screen. “T’other’s shorter….light skin. Both got matchin’ short haircuts. They’s all hot fer a ride...somethin’ ‘bout a private fishin’ charter. I’s closin’ up fer launch when they come runnin’ up beggin’. Paid double fares each tah share our last room.” The girl chuckled. “That’s why I’m out on tha couch fer this run.” “They paid double,” Baker’s voice had gone cold. “Is that a fact?” “Yes’m. That’s a fact.” Here’s a pitcher showed flow twixt the radion core an’ tha reactor. When she tetched parts ‘o’ the boat, whole to an’ fro….circuits...would light up an’ send little arrows flyin’ out an’ back agin. What a wonder… Ms. Baker watched the girl for a moment, her mind racing. It could be true. These ‘horn-dogs’ could be just a couple overaged rubes livin’ out some frat boy fantasy...or they could be Feds. Her money was on the latter. They hadn’t moved on her yet, which most like meant they were lookin’ to see how many more they could round up on New Melbourne. “Time for Plan B,” she thought as she made her way down to the infirmary. “Conjure I’d best think one up.”