sail3695

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Wolf is also traveling next week. Let's plan the JP/collab for when you're both back. And have a nice vacation...somewhere warm?

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Happy almost weekend, y'all,

Most of you are aware that @Aalakrys, Penelope's writer, has left the game. It saddens us to see her go, and we've expressed best wishes and hopes for her eventual return.

But China Doll will keep flying. Here's how we propose to handle things:

For the time being, Cal will pilot the boat through takeoffs and landings. Abby can help with the flying/navigation when they're in the black. We will be putting out the HELP WANTED sign for a new pilot.

Passengers and crew will be told of Penelope's departure by Cal on Day 3.

That said, we plan to move forward with all of your Day 3 writing plans, and departure as scheduled on Day 4.

Keep Flying,

Sail

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Happy Tuesday, you creative geniuses!

We've received a couple questions concerning timing and when things will move forward plotwise. To answer that requires me to engage in my absolute favorite pastime...recaps.

What we know:
1. The Skyes and Pen are getting all done up for a rave.
2. Cal and Alana are rumored to have escaped to a lagoon somewhere, though we are growing worried and considering a search party.
3. Yuri's sitting in the galley, pondering his future.
4. Abby hit the town to build a better mousetrap and clean up in the music business.
5. Hook is MIA.
6. Collins is MIA.

We're currently in Day 2 Evening. Knowing that the Skyes are planning a rave that is thought to become an all nighter, we're using the rave's conclusion as our cue to begin Day 3 morning. Here's what's on the burner for Day 3:

1. Yuri's job interview with Cal
2. Abby doing Abby things.
3. A little pilot told me that we might get a glimpse of Pen visiting home.
4. Hook's Night Out - complete cast invited to whatever bar our cook selects. (We'll be dropping a Gdoc invite.)

Regarding Day 3: As posting activity has slowed, we may exercise our godlike powers to skip time to Day 3 evening, the setting for Joe Hooker's Pub Crawl. That depends entirely upon you and your plans. If you've got activities to write for Day 3, just let us know and we'll stand down in our evil schemes.

And now, Day 4: We'll see an action filled climax/closing for Day 4. With that in mind, we'll be sharing individual involvements with characters by their status as crew or passengers, then adding all your contributions in sequence. My guess at this point would be to start writing these scenes after we've all partied with Hook the Cook.

A final note about posting frequency:

We're so happy that you chose to join FF2V...especially during our current life in the Upside Down of a pandemic. Wolf and I decided a long time ago that the last thing we want to do is crack the whip on our writers' posting activities. This is, after all, a game, and we hope that each time you approach it will come with a sense of pleasure, not the stress of "catching up," while exhausted from work, parenting, etc. To accommodate, we'll stretch and hold as possible to support your efforts. When we must move things forward, we'll provide ample warning...as we've done here.

That said, we understand the best way to grow characters is through writing them on a regular basis. So please allow me to repeat an offer I made early on. Abby and Yuri are at your disposal, both for IC and AU posting. A great deal of the underlying FF2V premise was born through character AU writing between Wolf and myself. It can be an extremely useful tool for writers looking to deepen their character back stories or develop future subplots, and I'm keen to pay the kindness forward.

Otherwise, if you're struggling and need a bit of help, this boat is chock full of gifted writers who'll be delighted to create with you. All you have to do is reach out.

Enough said. Time to head out for the day. Thanks, everyone, for all that you're bringing to make this world a living, breathing environment.

Write When It's Fun.

Sail

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Wailin’ Youth

Thanks to Youtuber Davie504 for character inspiration.

Khao Yai at night was kinda nice. Even the rundown end ‘o’ Port Street Abby’s traipsin’ had a comfortable feel to it. Hadn’t taken ‘er no time tah scrounge up a couple five gallon buckets tossed out from a job site. They’s all splotched with dried paint, but she didn’t conjure them mouses would care a whit, long’s tha smell ‘o’ food’s bringin’ ‘em in.

Her own supper done jest that. Rich aroma of curry floatin’ down the street made the girl follow ‘er nose to a family run food stand. Two credits later, she’s sittin’ on tha curb, eatin’ like a queen outta a little paper carton. Two - three workin’ folk perched alongside ‘er, an’ while nobody said nothin’, all them slurps, grunts, an’ belches they shared put ‘em all in fine humor tahgether. Is this what it’s like? she pondered, bein’ from some place? That’d take some ruminatin’, seein’s how all she ever ‘membered was livin’ on a Firefly. Mariposa was ‘er home place, she supposed…but far’s she knew, that boat weren’t around no more. This was Pen’s home place. Mayhaps she’d ask ‘er ‘bout how it should be feelin’.

Once she’d et, her next stop weren’t but a couple blocks away. WORLD OF BASS read a sign what weren’t lit up. She thought tha shop mighta been closed, ‘cept fer lights on inside an’ a fella sittin’ behind tha counter. When she let ‘erself in, Abby’s surprised at just what a narrow little place it was. One wall was hung with bunches ‘o’ long necked bass guitars. She conjured them black boxes all heaped underneath was amplifiers. T’other wall was full ‘o’ shelves, lotso little boxes an’ widgets, tiny bags with somethin’ she took fer guitar strings. They’s bins full’o’ picks, polishin’ cloths, instrument cases…an’ all of it sittin’ under a powerful coat ‘o’ dust. And right there, amongst all that chaos, she spied what it was brung her inta tha shop.

WEYLAND-YUTANI
PROMIX Professional Grade Headphones
CM-88B

Since she come in, the fella never paid ‘er no mind. He’s wearin’ a pair ‘o’ them “Weyland-Yutes” what Isaac called ‘em, an’ playing one ‘o’ them bass guitars with no sound comin’ out. Abby moved intah line ‘o’ sight, give ‘im a quick wave.

Fella stopped playin’, looked ‘er up an’ down an made hisself sound all kindsa annoyed as he said “What?”

“Beg pardon,” she set ‘er buckets down. “I come here lookin’ fer some…”

“No banjos here,” the fella’s nose turnt up at her twang. “Mountain Music, Seventh and Long. Go now.”

Most times she’d come back hard on that kinda putdown, but tonight? She din’ know. Mayhaps it’s tha good food, or walkin’ about put her tah rights, but this fella’s ‘tude suddenly struck ‘er all devilish an’ such. “Well, shucky-durn,” Abby poured it on thick as hotcake syrup, “Ah ain’t never been tah no place what’s called “World of Bass” ‘thout seein’ a single fish. Where ye keep ‘em, mister? Gotta tank out back ‘er sumthin’?”

Fella’s lip curled. “Bumpkin,” he spat the word. “Bass. Bass. Long A sound.”

“Yew mean them guitars?” She gaped, wide eyed, at the instruments. “They’s right purty. But not what Ah’m lookin’ fer.”

“Good. Leave.”

She pointed at them headphones. “I want them…Wailin’ Youths.”

His eyes trailed her finger, then slid back upon her. “Weyland Yutani,” the fella huffed. “You can’t even say it. Why would you need?”

“Uh…music?” she played at bein’ all genuine wide eyed an’ such. “Tah use when I’m workin’?”

He sneered, lookin’ all over her legs an’ tha “front end alignment” tee shirt she’s wearin’. “What work?”

Not tha first time a man conjured her fer whorin’, but tha distaste wrote all over his face made this time sorta funny. “Deckhand,” she answered plain. “On a space goin’ boat.” Abby held out ‘er hand. “Care tah count calluses?” That’n made a crack, she seen of the humor spark ticklin’ his eyes. “Name’s Abby. Friend ‘o’ mine tole me Wailin’ Youths is tha way tah go fer good sound won’t slip off my head whilst I’m workin’...movin’ boxes about, moppin’ decks, scrubbin’ toilets an’ such.”

“Toilets,” he said all offended. “You want these for scrubbing toilets. Just leave,” fella pointed toward tha door.

“Did yer daddy set yew up in this business?” she teased. “I see yer wearin’ a pair fer yer work.”

He laid the box on ‘is counter. “I don’t ‘scrub’ things.”

“Don’t gotta tell me,” she couldn’t help ‘erself as she commenced tah writin’ ‘er name in tha dust. “A…B…B…” until he snatched the box away.

“Price is sixty.”

“Sixty?” She cocked an eyebrow. “Cortex says I can git ‘em all day fer forty.”

“Cortex also says there are hot women just waiting to meet me. You pay extra…price of stupid. How long before you drop them into a toilet?”

“I reckon that’s fair.” Abby come around tha counter, eyes set upon another small box. He’s watchin’ ‘er as she blowed a cloud ‘o’ dust off tah read.

WEYLAND-YUTANI
FIELD PRO Waterproof Earbuds
CM-72E

“I’ll give yah fifty fer both,” tha girl offered, throwin’ a hand up tah stop ‘im runnin’ ‘is pie hole. “An’ I’ll clean yer shop.”

“Shop doesn’t need cleaning,” he sniffed.

Abby laughed. “Mister, only place don’t need cleanin’ in here’s where yer pi gu been polishin’ that stool.” She looked about. “Got a broom? Rags an’ such?”

“In the back,” he surrendered. “Somewhere.”

She give ‘im a smile as she nudged ‘er head toward tha bass on ‘is knee. “Y’any good?”

“Why?”

Abby looked over all them guitars on tha wall. “World ‘o’ bass,” she grinned as she said it proper. “I’ll show yew mine if yah show me your’n.”

His stone face cracked a smile. “Let me plug in.”

Davie 504 Bass Jam

He was good. Real good. Laid down music kept her movin, sometimes coaxin’ her tah laugh the way he’d make the beat match her stroke with a rag or a vacuum. Cleanin’ things was somethin’ come natural. She could let’er mind just float while her body took care ‘o’ business. An’ this…cleanin’ out a dusty old music shop…was becomin’ way more fun than she ever conjured. Proper cleanin' took 'er near three hours, but felt like jest a few minutes. She's almost sad when the job was done.

“Gotcher back room tidied up,” Abby offered. “Took out all yer trash. Found these under a pile ‘o’ boxes,” she lifted a thin sleeve held a pair ‘o’ dark wooden drumsticks. “Where they belong?”

“In the trash,” he answered. “No drums here.”

Her brow furrowed. “Yew sure? Ain’t never been opened.”

The fella shrugged. “Left over from when this was my father’s shop.”

“Can I have ‘em? I know a drummer,” she said.

He give a thin smile. “Do you clean apartments?”

Abby crooked a smile ‘o’ her own. “That’ll cost yah one ‘o’ them guitars.”

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Cutting Ties

Shadows grew long as Greenleaf’s sun touched the horizon. Abby took tah her feet, an’ after a couple good stretches, folded up tha lawn chair fer tha night. Weren’t necessarily a bad day. After all, she conjured they got a new passenger an’ a mechanic. Ms. Winters ain’t called back about haulin’ them beagles, but they’s still time.

Fer now, the deckhand had some other chores.

First come Isaac’s bucket, what she found holdin’ the mouse in tha engine room. Abby walked it tah tha galley, her mind set on scrubbin’ out tha inside. There, she seen Yuri, sittin’ at tha big table. He had a knife in the good hand, usin’ his cast tah flatten out a sleeve on his coveralls. “Hey,” the girl said. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Screwing up,” the mechanic chuckled as his eyes rose from his work. “I need to cut this patch off my sleeve,” he gestured toward a black embroidered shoulder decoration. The word McSorley stood out in bold white print. “More difficult than I conjured, I fear.”

“Here.” she flipped her jackknife open. “I’ll git ‘er in two shakes.” As he sat back, she set about slippin’ tha blade twixt tha patch an’ his sleeve. While she’s bent over ‘im workin’, Abby seen names signed on Yuri’s cast. “Booth tha truth?” she chuckled. “He one ‘o’ them fellas dropped ya off?”

“Lawyer,” Yuri nodded as the knife made short work of removing the patch. “Got me cut loose from my old job.” He examined the patch. “I’m supposed to get rid of this and never say a word about it again.”

She pocketed ‘er knife. “Sounds a might sad. Hope they give yah money fer that.”

“Some,” he reflected. “Sharks on both sides of the table. Hey,” he changed the subject, “have you seen the captain?”

“Nope,” Abby shook ‘er head. “Heard tell him’n the Doc had someplace tah be. D’ja eat yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Pen brung some food back she got this afternoon.” Abby gestured toward the fridge. “Got muh name on it. Yew can have it, if yah want.”

“Thanks,” Yuri’s eyes followed her toward the sink, “but what’re you eating, then?”

“Gotta head out.” Abby washed the bucket, bein’ careful not tah run water on the decorations Isaac done stuck on the outside. “Doin’ a little dumpster divin’. I’ll buy from a street cart after.”

Yuri’s brow lifted. “Dare I ask?”

“Mouse traps.” She run a towel inside tha bucket. “Gotta find a couple more like this’n, so’s I can catch ‘em an’ then set ‘em loose out yonder.”

“You think there’s that many aboard?”

“Hope not. But Uncle Bob…him as raised me…always said if yah see one, they’s a hunnerd more yah don’t.”

The mechanic responded with an amiable shrug. “Can’t argue with that logic. For all the trouble we had on the Mick…” he halted, remembering the new rule of his path.

Abby seen the light go right outta his eyes. Whether he’s brought silent ‘cuz what some lawyer fella said or if’n the mem’ry jest hurt too much tah say, she couldn’t suss. “I conjure two traps,” the deckhand said to close tha gap. “One hereabouts tha galley. T’other nearby tha shuttle they caught tha first’n.” She carried tha bucket as she made fer tha shuttle catwalk. “Need anythin’ while I’m in town?”

“No…but thanks,” Yuri called after her. He listened to her footfalls, the soft padding of her canvas shoes as they faded aft. As the silence descended once again, Yuri lifted the discarded patch. He nestled it in the plan of his hand. My life-that-was the former Engineer’s Mate pondered this last little scrap. “Sounds a might sad,” he repeated the girl’s words as the patch slid into his pocket.

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Ugh. I'm sorry to hear that.

Firefly - Second 'Verse

It's alright, gang. As Wolf always says, "Blame it on Sail."

When I do the recaps, I work off of things I'm told about character plans. At one time, this had included our cook heading into town to seek pleasurable company. As we'd settled on Day 1 target practice and Day 3 for Hook's full crew pub crawl, I assumed that said fornicating would occur on Day 2. However, the good cook (and his writer) are always free to change their minds on the subject.

As to food, I shall lay down a NEW RULE. We shall call that rule "BLIND HUSBAND" (in honor of my wife and the number of times she has to point out the thing for which I've spent 30 minutes rummaging in the fridge.) The galley may be fully stocked, with the finest local and preserved delicacies just waiting for the crew to partake. In no way does that status prevent one Abigail Travis from muttering "Thank Buddha we at least got PB &J, or I'da starved!"

Humans. I love 'em.

Sail

Firefly - Second 'Verse

The Nickel Tour

JP/collab from @deegee and @sail3695

I’ll be gorramed, Abby smiled at ‘erself. Sneaky Pen, she conjured on jest how the pilot done maneuvered ‘erself right past the girl’s questions ‘bout dancin’ with the Cap’n. This ain’t over. Smile stuck tah her face as she picked up ‘er book once agin.

The ko-dee-ak was smart; apparently he’d fallen through thin river ice before. He ran along the bank, pacing Mei Lin, each heavy grunt expelling a puff of vapor to mark his progress. The left bank offered her no escape, it’s jagged bluffs affording no handhold for her to climb. And so, she ran upon the snow topped ice, her lethal pursuer showing no signs of relenting.

A shadow fell over the page. Abby glanced up. The man was nigh onta her height…thirtyish? Fortyish? Hard tah tell, but ‘cept fer tha vicar’s collar he showed tah be livin’ on tha low. “Howdy,” she shielded ‘er eyes with tha left hand. “Bound fer Osiris, mister?”

He didn’t immediately reply, but nodded a greeting. Osiris was a central world, wasn’t it? He smiled down on the young woman sitting cross-legged on the ramp of the ship. “What’cha readin’, Miss?” he inquired, glancing down at the book in her lap. “Not too many read actual paper pages anymore.” He took a bit of the jerky he was pressing between calloused fingers, softening it a little before the next bite. It was strong, and more than a stick of it would have been too much for his palette.

She closed the novel, pressin’ the rolled dog ear cover twixt thumb an’ forefinger tah show ‘im. “Mei Lin in tha Wild,” Abby answered afore tuckin’ it away. “I like them paper books. They’s cheap. Sometimes a page been tore out, so I git tah guess what mighta happened.” The clipboard popped open.

“Osiris, is it? Mebbe so, mebbe so.” He offered her the small paper bag with three more jerky sticks inside. “Go on. I’m full up.” He glanced past the girl’s wild mane of curls into the hold of the ship, then back to see the colt revolver at her hip, in oiled leather. “Got room, do yeh?”

Abby nodded. “Sure’n we do. Setcha up in a single or a double. Takin’ off day after tomorrah.” She give the stranger prices fer both a single room and the bigger double. “China Doll’s a fine boat…an’ we got us a cook can really git tha job done. Yah pay now, we can take care ‘o’ ya…but no real cookin’ til we’re in tha air…mostly PB and J ‘less tha cook finds somethin’ special, dohn mah?”

“I surely do. I think I can scrape together enough to afford a single. An’ mebbe I can help out a little around the ship to help pay mah way? I’m happy to roll mah sleeves up.” He hands over a small coin bag with all his savings. It is nearly the amount Abby has quoted. “You say we take off day after next? Like to have a roof over mah head tonight, if it’s all the same to you… but mebbe I can rustle us up some eats for the evening meal ‘fore I come aboard.” He checks the sky. “...still time afore night falls on us. How many mouths to feed?”

“No bother with that. Most of ‘em’s scattered about town.” She counted out tha coin, her brow furrowin’ as she struck bottom. “Yer a might shy,” Abby said as she conjured percentages. Discounts wasn’t somethin’ yah thought of when it come tah passengers, but if she’s bein’ true, what tha man could pay weren’t outta line with deals she done fer cargo. “I reckon we’re good,” the girl stashed the coin away as the clipboard come open. “Can I have yer name, mister?”

There was no hesitation in his reply. “I’m Collins. Pleasure’s mine.” The girl fascinated him, frankly. She was all of what – fifteen? Fourteen? And looked like she had barely spent a day planetside in her entire life. The pistol at her hip, the grease stains on the thighs of her pants, the complexion that asked for a touch more sunlight… all of it added up to what Brother Christopher would have called a ‘Bilge Rat.’ Collins wouldn’t use the term aloud, as it ran a 50/50 chance of running him afoul of the girl.

Fact was, he was just interested in how someone could live their life in the Black. He didn’t like space travel that much, hadn’t experienced it till only a few years ago. “And what can I call you, Miss?”

“Name’s Abby,” she said on takin’ tah her feet. “C’mon, I’ll walk yah back.” The girl led their new passenger up tha ramp. As she moved, she give ‘im the well worn spiel. “Welcome aboard tha China Doll, Mister Collins. It’s perty easy gettin’ along. Cap’n says stay outta tha cargo bay, the engine room, cockpit, an’ any sleepin’ room ain’t your’n, less a body invites yah.” The after hatch swung open. “Them stairs’ll take yah up top. Galley an’ a nice sittin’ area are up there. Coffee an’ tea’s always on. Sometimes Hook…he’s our cook…lays out a tray ‘o’ cookies or such fer latenight snacks.”

The deckhand beckoned Collins down the short staircase aft. “That’s Medbay. Doc’s name is Alana, an’ take it from me. She knows her la shi. Patched me up a short spell ago. Lav’s right there,” she pointed out a doorway. “Three commodes, two showers an’ sinks. No worries about who’s usin’ ‘em, but they’s womenfolk aboard might appreciate yah knockin’ first, dohn mah? Got another sittin’ area,” she pointed out the sofa an chairs restin’ underneath her chalk orchid. “An’ that’s all she wrote!”

The pair stopped in a space where two short corridors could be seen. “Yer room’s in tha starboard passage,” Abby pointed, “second door on tha left headin’ aft. Mine’s last door on tha right,” she offered. “If yah need somethin’...spare blankets an’ such, don’t be askeert tah knock. Now make yerself tah home.” The grey collar caught ‘er eye once more. Hadn’t interested her afore, but now he's gon’ be flyin’ with ‘em, made sense tah git her bearin’s with Mr. Collins. “Beg pardon,” she asked. “You some kinda shepherd?”

He followed diligently along, noting lefts and rights, trying to take in names… cookies… knock first… He paused at his door, smiling back at the young woman. “Xie Xie, Miss Abby – I ‘preciate the lay of the land.” He tossed his meager kit – really just his pack, and his gun belt, onto the bed, and turned back to her as she asked him about his collar. “Somethin’ like that, yeah.”

Weren’t her way tah put questions tah them didn’t wish tah be asked, an’ Abby picked that up right quick from the shepherd. “If yah need somethin’, I’ll be back out front til sundown,” she siad afore turnin’. “Rest easy, Padre.” Once back in ‘er chair, she noted Collins’ room an’ what he paid fer tha trip. ‘Neath his name, she added Shepherd. After some ‘o’ the folk done flew on China Doll, she conjured Cap’n would like knowin’ a man spreads the Word found ‘is way aboard.

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Happy Hump Day from the cargo bay.

It's Day 2 afternoon on Greenleaf, and we're rolling right along. Cap'n and Pen scored us a run for Capital City, Osiris. Thanks to Niska's shuttle chaser lawyer, Yuri's back aboard and lookin' for the mechanic's job. We ain't sure, but we conjure the doc's gettin' all gussied up fer her escape with the cap'n. Hook done disappeared. Rumor has it he mighta R-u-n-n-o-f-t tah scratch "the itch." Abby's parked out front, catchin' up on 'er readin' when she ain't talkin' trade of one sort or t'other.
Father Collins been pointed right at China Doll, an' he got concerns as tah just who might be the bad guys here.

Heard tell that the Skyes got a rave planned fer tahnight. Alana an' Cal most like'll be busy. Not sure 'bout tha rest.

But don't fergit...Day 3 (tomorrow in game time) Hook's invitin' us all out fer a friendly drink. Gunther and your humble hosts will kick off a Gdoc for all interested crew and passengers to join in. Come thirsty!

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Lost and Found

Thanks to @wanderingwolf and @psych0pomp for lending characters and words.

” Listen to me, child.” Ba ba’s hands cradled her face, “You run. Run as fast as you can. Don’t stop til you’re safe.”

Mei Lin felt the tears come, and a quiver to her lip that wasn’t brought on by the cold. “No! I can help you! You’ll see!” Ba ba’s head turned at the sound of a heavy crash further up the ridge. The bear, now excited by the blood trail in their footprints, had picked up its’ pace. “Come with me!” the child whimpered.

“Go…GO!” She saw the moistening in his eyes as he shoved her downhill. “He’s coming!” Ba ba cried urgently. NOW!” She turned, half blinded in her tears, and began to stagger down the snow covered slope. From behind came the thumps of heavy footfalls, punctuated by the rhythmic grunting of the pursuing bear.

”Ko-dee-ak”, the word Ba ba used, darted across her mind. She’d seen bears only once before, when Ba ba took her to a traveling sideshow. They were funny, wearing silly hats and peddling tricycles around a ring. She’d thought them delightful. But this ko-dee-ak was nothing like them. He was a mountain, standing tall as the trees when he reared up, all teeth, claws, and roar when he’d struck their camp. She found her speed, racing downward into the thickening treeline, knocking snow from the overloaded boughs as she fought to keep precarious balance.

From behind her came a deafening roar, answered by Ba ba’s angry shout. ”Hā! Nǐ xiǎng yào lìng yīgè, nǐ zhège gǒu shǐ? Hǎo la…hǎo la!” He must’ve struck the bear with the crash kit’s knife. Hobbled by his shattered leg, weakened by the blood loss that their makeshift ter-ni-ket couldn’t staunch, Ba ba was putting up a fight. The sounds from above gave her hope. Maybe she shouldn’t run too far. He’d need her to circle back and help after he’d killed…

Then came the screaming, a gurgling wail that seemed to rise up from deep within. Like the bear, she thought, but…was that Ba ba?

“RUUUUNNNNN!”

“Beg pardon, ma’am?”

Abby glanced up from her novel. The man looked local. He wore the loose fitting clothes and broad brimmed hat over knee boots all scuffed from lotsa traipsin’. His beard was flecked in grey, trailing down a face gone ruddy and dark from years spent ‘neath the local sun. “Yessir?” she asked.

“Lookin’ fer work,” he said. “Got anythin’?”

“You mechanic? We’s needin’ a mechanic.”

The stranger shook his head. “No, ma’am. But I ain’t afraid ‘o’ hard work.”

Abby give a mild shake of her head. “Sorry, friend. Ever’thin’ else is covered.” She looked down the way. “Lotsa boats berthed jest now,” the girl offered. “Sure’n one of ‘em’s gon’ come up shorthanded fer launch. Look fer them’s takin’ on cargo first. They’ll be yer best bet.”

“‘Preciate that, ma’am.” The man give a tip of his hat afore settin’ off.

“May the road rise,” she said in kind. The deckhand just put ‘er eyes back inta Mei Lin’s flight down the mountainside when ‘er hip pocket commenced vibratin’. What’s he done now? the smile rose tah her lips as she anticipated more from Thomas.

_____________________________________

Message from: NOT YOUR BOYFRIEND

Hey Kid, we’re bound for CAPITAL CITY, OSIRIS. Cargo is 12 pallets. Skids up day after tomorrow, high noon. Do some Abby-cadabra and get my hold filled up. Extra points for passengers. Pen says hi. Girl knows how to dance.

Captain Slide

___________________________________

“Huh,” she said again tah his messagin’. Abby put Mei Lin aside an’ scooped up tha clipboard. After conjurin’ actual flight time she figgered out per kilo shippin’ rates an’ passenger fees. Then, she flipped over tah her notes of all them as come askin’. “Nope…nope…negatory,” the girl struck each name an’ destination off ‘er list. Next one she found herself hopin’ for:

Celia Winters - 1 passenger & 20 beagles - Londinium

Abby worked the chart, clockin’ in current orbits ‘o’ both planets ‘round tha White Sun. “Hmm” her brows lifted, afore she jumped on tha cortex to call Ms. Winters.

“Hey, Cal Junior,” Rex’s voice boomed out behind her as he tromped down the ramp. “Showin’ a little leg, huh?”

She give ‘im her “wooden indian” look. “Nothin’ gits by yew.”

“Not that, anyway,” he waggled his eyebrows over them sunglasses. Looked like Rex done dressed fer tha planet, wearin’ khaki shorts an’ a tropical print shirt the girl swore she could read by after sundown. “Important tanning tip, mei mei. Gotta lay on your stomach if you want color on the backs of your legs.”

“Smart talk from a man’s got tha pastiest shanks I ever did see.”

He grinned. “Ladies who ride the highway like a well marked onramp. Hey, what’s Cal Senior up to?”

“Him an’ Pen went inta town,” Abby said. “Linin’ up a job. It’s called work.”

“Take it from me,” Rex shook his head. ”Nàgè gǒu shǐ huì shāle nǐ.”*
*that shit’ll kill you

Abby come back, smilin’ all sweet as she asked ”Nǐ zěnme zhīdào de?”**
**how would you know?

“You need more sin in your life, kiddo. Anyhoo, tell him I’m lookin’ for him, wouldja?” Rex give out a big yawn, arms spread wide as he stretched. “Well, gotta run. Things to meet. People to do. Ciao.”

“Hasta.” She watched the man as he sauntered off. Seemed like Rex had a lucky star in the ‘verse. Set Abby tah wonderin’ if they both shared tha same one in their Cap’n.

Her call tah Ms. Winters went straight tah voice mail. “Ni hao, this is Abby from China Doll,” she said tah the voice recorder. “Turns out we’s headed fer Osiris. Not a straight run tah Londinium, but orbits look right tah make it a puddle jump if yah wanna change boats. Leastways there’d be time tah check with tha Cap’n ‘bout takin’ a side trip. Lemme know if yer interested.” That part wrapped, she set tah work figgerin’ out a couple package rates tah git tha woman an’ her dogs tah Osiris with the Londinium add-on. Cap’n would want the numbers. Right now they wouldn’t make nothin’ fer the side hop, but she conjured they might pick up somethin’ else ta keep both China Doll and her finances in the black.

Gato Que Avanza, Perro Que Ladra

When the shuttle dropped skids right fronta her, weren’t no way she couldn’t stare. Thing’s painted all metal flake purple with flames trailin back orange an’ read along her sides. Roof struts’d been chopped a might tah narrow out tha windshield an’ passenger windahs. They’s more chrome on it she’d ever seen. Whole thing glowed unnerneath like she had a reactor all broke open, til Abby conjured it’s naught but LED lightin’. Couldn’t see inside, what with them windahs tiinted so dark an’ all. Whole thing throbbed an’ shook so much she pondered how it weren’t leavin’ a trail ‘o’ screws an parts what done fall off.

Back door flew open, an’ music hit ‘er in tha chest. The real surprise was that fella Yuri, him as they rescued on New Melbourne, climbin’ out. She could see he’s still perty stove up an’ movin’ slow. He raised his right hand tah wave, a smile comin’ tah his face til tha shuttle’s passenger windah rolled down. “Hey, cabrón!”

“Yeah?” Yuri turned back.

“C’mere,” All Abby could see was sunglasses, a doo rag on ‘is head, an’ tha pen he waved as Yuri leaned toward ‘im. “For good luck,” he said as he signed Yuri’s cast. “You need some. Buena suerte, man.” He give the cast a friendly pat, afore lookin’ over his shades right at her. A mouth fulla gold teeth grinned, then ‘is lips pooched as he blew ‘er a kiss. “Oooh, mama!” he laughed as the shuttle went skids up an’ cruised back the way they come, music throbbin’ as it faded away.

“See yah made friends,” Abby set ‘er eyes on the mechanic.

“Yeah…yeah!” Yuri chuckled. “They were good guys. It’s Abby, right?”

“Sure’n it is. How yew keepin’?”

“Well enough.” He stopped before her. “Is the captain about?”

“Nah, he’s off handlin’ business.” She looked ‘im up an’ down. While it’s pain as day Yuri’d cleaned up since she last seen him, what with the cast, new bandages an’ such, she could also spot the tiredness rollin’ up on ‘im. “Yah wanna wait inside, mebbe have a bite an’ a sit down?”

The smile returned to Yuri’s face. “Do I look like I need it?”

“Our doc would give me all kindsa nasty looks if’n I didn’t offer.”

“Hey,” he said, “you told me the boat needed a mechanic? That still true?”

She nodded. “Ever mechanic on a Firefly?”

“No, but I do know the MSR reactor - radion core combination’s one helluva lot safer than the one I just spent three years keeping together.”

“They’s reliable, alright,” the girl opened ‘er clipboard. “Cap’n’s got tha last say on it, but if yah conjure tha goesintahs an’ goesouttas he’s like tah hire yah. Usual deal…full share, gun bonus if we gotta pull ‘em an’ such.”

“I don’t have a gun,” Yuri shook his head. “I don’t have anything, right now.”

Abby come up outta her chair. “Tell yah what. Lemme walk yah back. We’ll setcha up a room tah stretch out in. Got things like toothbrushes fer them as fergot tah pack ‘em. Might also have some clothes in tha lost ‘n’ found. Welcome aboard tha China Doll.”

“Thanks,” Yuri gave a grateful nod as he fell in at her side. “Nice to come aboard under my own steam.”

Once Yuri’s all sitchiated, Abby headed fer tha ramp. On tha way, she’s bangin’ out a message tah tha Cap’n:

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Message from: IN YOUR DREAMS

Copy on Osiris. Might have a nibble for cargo, but nobody booking passage yet. Tell Pen I want details.

The Mop Queen

PS: Abby-cadabra. Just pulled a mechanic out of my hat.

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