[h1]Episode 1 - "Gateway" Finale[/h1] [h2]Scene 2 - "I Fall To Pieces"[/h2] Collaboration Credits: [@aalakrys], [@MK Blitzen], [@Yule], [@Winters], [@Gunther], [@wanderingwolf], [@sail3695] "Marisol Chavez, you are bound by law!" The woman stepped forward, hands outstretched from her sides. “Stay clear of me,” she whispered to Cyd and Abby before addressing the gun wielding Fed. “I’m Marisol Chavez. You’re bound by law to tell me the charges...” “Think I’m playing here?” the marshal demanded. “I said ‘hands UP!” He punctuated his command with a single overhead shot. The bullet made a hollow ring as it ricocheted once, twice, then embedded into an insulator panel. Cyd ducked on instinct, bringing her hands to either side of their ears, scanning for cover. Abby flinched too, eyes sweepin’ about as if she’s tryin’ tah follow tha bullet’s flight.. At the bridge Cal reclined in the Captain’s chair, a foot on the dash as the readings whirred in time to the gentle hand of his pilot, Penelope. What promised to be a quick drop to the soggy depths was turning out to be a struggle against the storm that raged on New Melbourne’s surface. Under Penelope’s hand the Doll eased into each gust, correcting milliseconds after the gale. The rocking was all sorts of calming until Cal heard the peel of a gun shot within the bowels of the China Doll. With brows arched, his feet hit the deck, “What was that?” Penelope’s furtive glance marked her own distress. "Sam, can ya give us a listen to Cargo?" Penelope asked without taking her eyes off the readings. She was flying blind on the viewports, but this wasn't a time they were helpful noways with the sheets of rain coverin' 'em and all. The whirring slowed as Sam said: "I believe so. It will take approximately one minute." [i]‘What the hell was that?’[/i] Hook thought hearing the single gunshot ring out from the cargo bay. He instinctively unholstered his Ruger RedHawk keeping the handgun low by his side as he slowly crept out onto the walkways below the galley. He put himself into a position where he could listen to the conversation developing below him. The crack of the gunshot was enough to cut through Isaac's pleasant post-snack nap. He groggily opened his eyes and looked about, finding the taller creep nuzzled against his shoulder. A sizable drool stain grew on his sleeve. "Mukhai could sleep through an earthquake" he mumbled as he shoved the jerk away from him. The seriousness of the situation quickly dawned on him as he saw his brother running out the door towards the cargo bay and Cyd nowhere to be found. He fumbled with his seatbelt and freed himself, grabbing the skateboard he had stowed next to his chair due to the expected turbulence. He tucked it under his arm and quickly trotted off trying to catch up with Mathias. Marisol threw her hands into the air. “Alright, alright!, she shouted, moving slowly around to the crate’s side. “You got me. Leave these two be and I’ll go quietly.” The Fed formerly known as the space sick Captain MacReady laughed. “Not a soul on this boat gonna walk...specially them two. From what I’ve seen, they both got aidin’ and abettin’ charges….FREEZE!” he roared as the woman kicked backwards, sending the second crate and its’ remaining contents plunging into the gale. Marisol sprung forward, rolling over the deck as he fired a second shot. This one struck the floor grate, careening past her ear with a high pitched yowl as she scrambled for the shelter of the third masked Alliance crate. "I have enabled one-way feed from the Cargo Hold. Would you like for me to play it now?" Sam reported. "Yes, please!" There may have been urgency in the typically breezy tone of the pilot. It crackled to life just as the second shot sounded, making it echo loudly through the deck. [i]Just like gliding,[/i] Penelope mentally told herself to stay focused as the pitching of the storm pounded the Doll all around took all of it. Nevermind the added stress of gunfire. That second shot had her catch her captain bolting up, steadying himself as he strode towards the hall. So, that wasn't part of the plan… despite being in the dark on a potentially-turned-definitely dangerous side quest 'fore landing, Pen called over her shoulder. "Careful out there - Cap'n. Storm ain't gonna promise straight shots with the Doll dancin' like she is." Cal was out through the galley in moments, his hat left on the console beside Penelope. He’d strapped his pistol just in case this shindig turned the wrong sort of exciting. Pulling the iron, Strand made his way down the stairs to the medbay lounge to get eyes on what was going on below. The second shot brought him out into the cargo bay proper, seeing the whole situation. Hook heard the second shot ring out as he attempted to creep quietly down the steps. He could see the bearded man holding the pistol who had discharged two rounds towards people he knew. People who were now part of this crew, his family. His protective instincts were kicking in and so wanted to remove this intruder from the ship. Mathias who had jetted off at the first resonating shot in a full panic. The headcount was off and he was already imagining the worst, as older brothers tended to do. He skidded to a haltl at the entrance of the cargo seeing the situation. Seeing Cyd not crumpled in a pool of her own blood brought instant relief and then some jackass waving his gun around sent him into a new wave of panic as he scrambled for something, ANYTHING! Grasping a flimsy looking pipe as MacReady fired another shot the red head elder brother swung for the fences. And by fences, it was the back of Macready's head. There was a loud thung sending MacReady reeling, the pipe bending a bit out of shape. From nowhere came a blow, struck with such force as to send MacReady staggering forward. He whirled, his motions drunken and awkward as an unsteady pistol came to bear on Mathias. “STAND DOWN, BOY!” he bellowed, a mild slur to his voice. “I will put you down….AND YOU TOO! Captain Shtrand. I’m a certified marshal with a...with a..” he reached toward the warm trickle down his neck...Alliance clearance! That womansh my prisoner! I’m authorized to take ANYBODY!” His glare landed once more on his young attacker. “ANYBODY WHAT INTERFERES!” [i]Get down[/i] Marisol threw an urgent gesture toward Cyd and Abby. “I don’t want anybody hurt!” she shouted from behind the crate. “Don’t much care!” the Fed barked, swinging his gun back toward his primary quarry “My orders say ‘Dead or Alive.’ You been one gorram burr in my saddle bein’ alive. Might’s well try t’other!” Cyd stood up, panicked at the sight of some skebenga pointing a gun at her sib, and dashed forward to a closer crate. She let out a shrill whistle to catch his attention. The man had clearly been knocked moon brained. A high pitched whistle turned his head. The gun wavered...til it firmed up again. “Back off, son,” he ordered. “Been trackin’ this’un.. and them crates...ever since she’n her browncoat terr’ists stole ‘em.” He landed a fevered eye upon Cal. “You surely screwed this...screwed….this pooch, Captain.” He wobbled a moment, his unsteady finger touching the trigger. “Conjured you’s smart,” the slur was on the upswing. “Well, mebbe you were...but you weren’t fast! MacReady’s face split into a wicked grin. What’s in that one crate right there gon’ put you and your whole crew away for life!” Hook crept ever downward toward the events happening below. He saw the man threatening the young passenger he met on the first day of their trip. His pistol was leveled in the direction of the intruder. He was ready to shoot, but needed a clear line of fire. Isaac heard the second shot as he came running into the cargo bay from behind his brother. It was quite a packed house. "Jo! What's going-" As he came up beside Mathias, he was now able to see the gun pointed at the middle of his sib's chest. "DUDE!" he shouted disapprovingly at the gunman, "Not cool!!" he scolded as he threw up his hands in surrender, his skateboard clutched tight in one of them. “Marshal.” Marisol had risen from her shelter. She stepped into the open, arms raised, hands tucked behind her head. “No need for any more shootin’. I’m right here,” the independent offered as the storm howled through the open bomb bay at her heels. “C’mon, now. “ “Oh, I conjure you got iron,” MacReady now supported his gun with both hands, the shooter’s stance righting him. “But ya ain’t gon’ use it. I turn for you an’ these two scrubs get me in a rush? Nah,” he chuckled. “Now you might get a shot off...you might hit me. But close as I am to these boys? Think on it...gen’ral.” Marisol’s eyes met Cal’s. She held a pistol tucked behind her head, but she wouldn’t shoot. MacReady was right about that, and just altered enough by that head wound of his to make every second he held a gun one more chance to roll ‘snake eyes’ on one of Cyd’s brothers. Cal had a shot, but he wouldn’t take it. She was right in his field of fire. Her eyes widened a moment, followed by a nod and a tilt of her head. She lifted her eyebrows, hoping the message had gone through. Cal locked eyes with the Fed who’d brought his pistol to bear on a lanky boy with a bloodied pipe in hand. “Hold on, partner; wouldn’t be right to have a party without inviting the whole gang.” Strand took a calculated step between the two siblings and MacReady’s sweeping barrel. While his own pistol drew a bead on the man’s center mass, he offered his own retaliatory response, “Come now, ain’t no need for bloodshed or iron” his eye flicked between Marisol and MacReady as his back foot settled into position. “ENOUGH!” MacReady gave an irritable shake of his head. “Chavez! Git out here in fronta me before I start pronouncin’ sentence!” Over MacReady’s shoulder, she could see the captain, his gaze hard and steady. “Cal,” Marisol said, “Remember what I told you about the Alliance’s Plan B?” “I remember,” he echoed. “Plan A was Miranda.” With a backward step and a mild push, Marisol Chavez leapt through the open bomb bay. [i]”Shénme shì yǒngyuǎn de fú...”[/i] Abby’s on her feet, her jaw hung all shocked open. “Hook now!” Cal called, before raising his own iron in anger. Hook was back in the valley. All he knew was this purple belly was threatening his family. He had to do something NOW! The opportunity presented itself. He had a clear line of sight. He lined up a shot to the top of his head and slowly squeezed the trigger, “BLAM!” Somewhere in the back of his concussed brainpan, Marshal MacReady conjured he’d put himself in a right bad fix. Threatenin’ them boys was the last card in his hand. His Jack was played. He didn’t count on the captain holdin’ two Aces, or just how fast the man was at drawin’ the first. Before he could think, the first round struck him in the chest, spinning him left as more hot lead set him pitchin’ about. He got off one final shot...and everything just stopped. No white light, no angels or horned folk from the hot place. Just nothing. Mathias jumped damn near scaring the red out of his hair. Which was quickly replaced by the faceful of blood, brain, chucks of hair and bone. He stood more shocked at the spray of viscera than anything and MacReady slumped and fell to the ground. Mathais blinked, still in shock. “Maaifoedie!” He shouted. The first time you see a person's head explode right is certainly something you never forget. Isaac certainly wouldn't. He was speechless as he tried to comprehend what just happened. He tried to mutter the words "O kak" but only got to "O" before the words were rudely interrupted with a stream of vomit. He leaned against his brother's shoulder as the remains of that pleasant afternoon snack spilled out onto the cargo bay floor. "I'm sorry, bruv" he said between coughs and gagging as he made an observation, "I got some on your shoes." Hook watched the man convulse as several bullets entered his body, including the .44 caliber slug that penetrated the top of his skull. It was a bloody mess; watching the corpse as if in slow motion slump to the floor. “Mebee ye shood drop him into the sea too?”