A new day dawns...

“You’re out of your gorram mind!”

The unnatural blue lenses of Captain Eleanor Lee met his incredulous stare with an unblinking response of implied threat and deadly resolve.

Unable to match the strength of the woman’s stare, Daedalus Cooper looked away and tried to put his current situation into something resembling sanity.

He was zooming through Beaumonde’s Warehouse District in a stolen ground car, and a blue haired mad-woman was behind the wheel.

Dade’s eyes moved to the figure creeping across the car’s hood. In the windswept fury of the vehicle’s speed, dark dreadlocks snaked around the figure like a gender-confused Medusa. Though just one missed step away from oblivion, the mysterious Mr. Barbossa seemed completely at ease. As Dade watched, the large man slung his firearm and moved to his feet.

Barbossa meant to do it, and the crazy saobi behind the wheel meant for him to follow!

His gaze jerked back to the road ahead…a road filled with the image of Barbossa preparing to jump onto a speeding Hover-Hauler. The Hauler was a massive vehicle easily eclipsing their small car several times over, and its bulk was bobbing and weaving in an attempt to evade pursuit.

Dade’s shoulder length hair whipped around his face, as he gaped dumbfounded…unable to tear his eyes from the vision before him. Just as the gargantuan trailer of the Hauler swung back before the car, Barbossa leapt and grabbed the service ladder at the vehicle’s rear. The man’s strong hands slipped for the briefest of moments, and for a beat, one combat boot touched the rushing asphalt below. A second later and Barbossa was once again climbing the ladder.

‘Negative…negative…negative,’ his mind chanted.

Turning to further voice his reluctance, he was met with three unblinking eyes; two of blue located in the head of Captain Lee and one of black housed in the barrel of the pistol pointed at his head.

His eyes widened in utter shock, and his hands instinctively lifted over his shoulders.

Her pistol jerked toward the Hauler, and Lee’s unaffected voice split the wind,
”Fame and fortune await, Mr. Cooper.”

Dade shook his head,
”There’s no way in Hell…”

The electronic whirr of her cocked pistol interrupted his objection.
“Fame and fortune lie that way, Mr. Cooper...isn’t much left for you here.”

Somehow he managed to get onto the hood without dying.

Scooting his way toward the front, he tried to quell the nausea that threatened to make more of a mess of things. With no where else to go, he looked up at the Hauler’s trailer. Barbossa had gained the roof, but he still faced back their way…one strong hand was extended toward Dade.

His head started to shake again, and his lips silently repeated ‘no’.

A bullet whizzed by his head.

Daring a glance behind him, he saw Lee aiming for another shot.

Dade’s fragile resolve shattered,
”YOU CRAZY GORRAM BITCH! I’LL TEAR…!”

Behind the pistol, he thought the woman’s mouth twitched in a smile.

A second bullet whizzed past his arm.

Once again looking at the Hauler, Dade tried to slow his breathing and measured the swing of the vehicle. He couldn’t do it…the pendulum motion was too erratic. He was going to die.

Movement from the trailer caught his attention, and Dade found himself staring at Barbossa…or more accurately Barbossa’s hand. First the open palm faced him…then the thumb tucked in followed by the pointer finger. His blood chilled…it was a gorram countdown.

He was about to ignore it, when his eyes met Barbossa’s and in the madness of the moment, he saw reason…he saw faith.

Dade nodded as the fingers continued their countdown.

Two.

He stood on shaking legs.

One.

With a scream of survival, Daedalus leapt.




Eighteen Hours Earlier The Shangren

Dade smiled at his new employers,
”Captain Lee, Mr. Barbossa, I’m much obliged for the job. I’ll carry my weight…you’ll see.”

Behind his smile, his mind questioned his decision. Sure the coin seemed good, but these two seemed…eccentric. Mentally shrugging, he dismissed the apprehensive thought.

How bad could they be?


<<OOC Barbossa and Captain Lee GM'd with the permission of Pain and oath respectively>>

”Captain Lee, Mr. Barbossa, I’m much obliged for the job. I’ll carry my weight…you’ll see.”

"I suppose we will, Mr. Cooper," El answered, smile icily warm. He didn't look like anything particularly special. He was big, definitely, and had the broad, rugged look of a barfighter or fallen boxer. There was a tinge of weakness that El got off of him, though. Maybe it was the nerves of signing on to a new crew.

"Pending tests," El thought. "We'll see how he holds up."

"A few rules, Mr. Cooper, before you start. As you hopefully have figured out by now, we carry weapons that are often fired against other people." Continuing, El folded her arms, right eye narrowing slightly. "There's little room for pacifism here, Mr. Cooper; I've found it's usually a long answer to a short problem. Munitions rooms are kept locked barring complications, but everything else is essentially open." El hesitated for a moment at that last, but marched on with the initial spiel. "Engine's your responsibility, but I'll be checking in from time to time, make sure you're up to standard O.P."

Locking eyes with the taller Dade, blue eyes unblinking, El added, "Let's hope you do well."

Dunsmuir Landing, Beaumonde

The Captain of the Cerberus's cybernetic eye glistened in the overhead pharostin lamps, the frown on his heavily-tattooed face an all-too familiar expression. He took one last look at the two wayward travelers and shook his head, no, turning his back on them.

"Shimatta," Rei-Bomb pouted resignedly, kicking dejectedly at a loose stone on the gravel walkway of the Beaumonde spaceport. "That was the last ship with a crew announcement. Busiest port this side of Eavesdown and we can't find diddly-squat. Thought there was work to be had here?"

"There's work," said The Bear, hauling up his rucksack, leaving the rest of his thought unfinished. Rei hauled up her duffel and carried it to the far side of the path, tossing it on a sloped area next to the pedestrian walkway they were standing on. She sat down sulking on top of it.

"Not for us. Nobody wants your sorry old carcass, an I can't rightly demonstrate my bona fides," she said, motioning to the pistols on her hip, "without causin' a ruckus. Sides, I'm still on probation with the law from the last go-round."

The Bear may or may not have smiled at that comment. Beneath his soup-catcher, it was hard to tell. "There's work," he repeated. "Other than on a ship."

She looked up at him suspiciously. "What, loadin' freight?" Hell no." She hocked up a huge glob of phlegm and spat it in the middle of the walkway. "They ain't gonna want us anyway for the same damned reasons. They'll think you're too old an' I'm too weak."

Bear shrugged. "Ain't no harm in tryin'. Money won't last forever." He started to trudge off.

"Where the heck you goin'?"

"Back to the hotel... my back's killin' me."

Rei rolled her eyes and lifted herself off her bag. A man walking by slid briefly in the fresh puddle of snot before catching himself and looking at his shoe in disgust. She covered her mouth to stifle some laughter, at both the slip and the glowering stare he shot at her.

"Hey, wait up!" She jogged to catch up with Bear. "Ain't no point in hangin' around here, I g--- whoah."

Both of them were stopped in their tracks by the sight of the refitted Jo Lynn gunboat, armed and armored to the teeth and looking like a rusty winged tortoise heading off to war. "Well, lookee there."

"Huh," said Bear, simply. There was a world of meaning in his "huhs."

"Whaddaya suppose it does? Reaver-huntin' or somethin'?" She walked up to the ship's dock console. "Shangren." She looked at Bear. "What's it mean?"

"Chinese mythology, I think. First diety formed from the Tao, accordin' to--"

"Yeah, that's real innerestin'. Hey, they got crew postin's!" Her face brightened up. She looked back at the ship. "Sure, it's plumb ugly but ain't like we can afford to be choosy."

Bear's gaze hadn't left the ship. There was a look in his eyes, the look he got when he had a bad feeling about something. "Whyn't you let me do the talkin', Rei?"

"Yeah, right," she scoffed. "It's an effort to get you to put two words together." She walked up to the ship's outer comm and punched it.

"Hey! Hey, anyone in there? Hullllooooooo?"

Aft Cargo Bay Catwalk

”Captain Lee, Mr. Barbossa, I’m much obliged for the job. I’ll carry my weight…you’ll see.”


Mr. Barbossa stood next to his captain with his arms crossed over his chest. He was wearing a pair of camo military style pants, body armor, a black T-shirt, and matching combat boots. On his right leg he carried his auto-fire 9mm pistol in an olive drab holster. On his left leg was a kukri style machete sheathed in an olive drab sheath. The machete itself had a black handle and a black 13" slightly curved blade. He used that one in knife fights or hacking through brush, when his big machete with a 22" blade, which he wore across his back, was too cumbersome.

Most of his gear was olive drab in color, from his, gun belt, mag pouches, holsters, etc. Across his chest, strapped in an quick release sling (think Jayne's in the BDM) was his favorite SMG. It was a gift from a friend and he used it as often as he could. His arms were folded across it and should the man in front of him do something that was uncalled for and dangerous, he wouldn't hesitate one bit in using it.

He listened to El talk to the man, a one Mr. Cooper, looking at the man with muddy brown eyes. The only time his arms left their roost was when he had to sweep on of his dreads from his face.


"Let's hope you do well."


"Aye, mon." replied Mr. Barbossa, his eyes studying Mr. Cooper. "Eef you rutt us een eenyway, shape, or form, neet'er of us weell 'esitate to rutt you een an equal fashion."


Before the man could answer, a woman's voice came over the comm.


"Hey! Hey, anyone in there? Hullllooooooo?"


Not letting his gaze leave Mr. Cooper, Barbossa said to El, "Eye'll go check eet out, Captain."


He walked over to the ladder in the middle of the catwalk, climbed down a few rungs, then slid the rest of the way down. Releasing his SMG, Barbossa filpped the safety off, chambered a round, and walked over to the comm.


Punching the button with his fist, he said, "Aye dat we be. Do ya mind telleen' me who ya be?"

"Aye dat we be. Do ya mind telleen' me who ya be?"

Reiko crinkled her eyebrows and stared quizzically at the comm before taking her hand off of it. She looked up at Bear with the same comically confused expression. "What'd he say?"

"Think he wants to know who we are," the Bear replied in his typical gravelly monotone.

"Hope someone on this boat speaks English." She pushed the comm back in to reply, affecting a faux-Jamaican patois. "Uh, yah, we be Rei-Bomb da Magneefeecent and Da Woondrous Bear lookin' for---hey!"

Momentary sounds of a scuffle echoed through the ship's cargo bay before another voice boomed through the comm.

"Sir, the two of us saw your crew postings and we were hopin' to talk to the captain of this vessel 'bout the possibility of employment."

Reggie opened the door to reveal The Bear, hand clasped around Rei-Bomb's mouth, her eyes staring wide at Reggie from beneath his massive paw. He released her and she assayed the first mate of the Shangren with an amused incredulity, noticing the vast armory he had strapped to him. She exchanged a curious glance with The Bear before looking around like there might be someone else standing behind her, before turning back to him.

"We're y'all expectin' an army to show up or somethin'?"

OOC: Reggie's door-opening okayed by Doc P.

"We're y'all expectin' an army to show up or somethin'?"


"Not quite, Meess." replied Reggie, resecuring his SMG to his sling. Stepping back to let the man and the girl enter, Barbossa continued, "Eye just like bein' well armed ees all. Tends to 'elp een my line of work."


Turning his head, he looked up at the catwalk and shouted, "Captain El! We got two folks down 'ere lookeen' for employment!" Looking back at the old man and the young girl, Mr. Barbossa smiled and said, "Please come een. My name ees Mr. Barbossa and Eye'm de first mate of de Shangren."

All radio, capture and Cortex frequencies explode into static and are replaced a moment later by the smiling visage of Prime Minister Robert Murdock.

As he begins to speak, it becomes apparent that his words have been spliced together from various press conferences, graduations, speeches, ceremonies and other public events. Though the setting of the video may morph with every couple of words, the audio has been flawlessly synched, creating a perfectly modulated speech…in the Prime Minister’s own words.

[ OOC each ellipsis represents a scene shift ]



”Free Citizens of the Alliance, I stand before you…”

”..a liar and a traitor…”



”Unification is…a façade built on the lives of…Independents.”

”This situation calls for action, so I implore the good citizens of the Alliance…”



”…Revolt…”

”…take up arms…”

”…kill…those that seek to impose…their values and judgments on you…”



As the following begins, the ghostly image of Colonel Harlan Jessup joins Prime Minister Murdock on the screen, and though the fallen Browncoat cannot be heard, his mouth is synched perfectly with Murdock’s.



”Now we show them what it means…to be…Independent…”

”We show…them that…pieces of paper…do not end…the struggle for Freedom…”

”We are the…Faceless…6…6…6…th…and our time…is now!”

An old Browncoat march begins to play from a lone fiddle. The music rises as the Prime Minister concludes.



”Remember who you are!”

”Remember...Serenity Valley!”

”For…Independence…and the…Free…Branch!!”

A lone note hangs in the air, and the screen goes black.

However, one last whisper from Murdock can be heard,
”Find Mei-mei…rise again.”

Another burst of static, and normal transmissions resume.

"Let's hope you do well."

Eyes more akin to tall ships and deep oceans matched his new boss’s unblinking gaze. After a beat he offered Lee a respectful smile and a slight nod. Raising his right hand into their line of sight, he crossed his pointer and middle fingers,
”Here’s to hopin’.”

"Aye, mon. Eef you rutt us een eenyway, shape, or form, neet'er of us weell 'esitate to rutt you een an equal fashion."

Though the man was walking away and was obviously not concerned with Dade’s response, he gave it away…a courtesy to the still present Captain,
”Wouldn’t expect anythin’ less, friend.”

Following Barbossa from the catwalks, he soon found himself staring at the two new arrivals…albeit from the bottom of the stairs.

A stranger pair he had never seen.

The raw, uncooked exuberance of youth radiated from the girl, filtering through the air till one could almost taste the heightened experiences of years past. Shame she flew the Black…that youth would be dried up sooner than it should.

Dade figured most men would focus on the girl, cute little thing that she was, but he found the old man to be the more pulling persona. He stood like a soldier. Not one of these phony tough and crazy brave Rim mercs, but a real soldier. If you looked hard enough, you could see it in the shoulders…discipline. Plus, the colonel bars on his regulation browncoat aided Dade’s prophetic vision.

With a smile and a nod toward the pair, he pulled a crumpled pack of Santo Smoothes from his shirt pocket and withdrew one slightly bent cigarette.

Leaning back against the stair railing, he waited politely for Barbossa and Lee to weigh and measure their new prospects.

"Captain El! We got two folks down 'ere lookeen' for employment!"

El walked to the railing of the catwalk at Reggie's shout, one eyebrow arched in curiosity. Descending quietly to the cargo bay, El brushed one thick tress of blue hair from her eyes, the action serving to disguise her other hand dropping softly to the butt of her pistol, fingers curling.

Now...weren't these two just a grand display of contrasting themes? So many differences between them; gender, race, size, stance, age. The bond between them could be seen clearly, though, in spite of their night and day look. El could see devotion, strength, dependence...

And as her eyes took in the haggard-looking old man's coat of choice, Eleanor also noticed independence. While she had been incarcerated during the war, the whole deal had been relayed to her. This old man had lost something big, and yet he kept up by flagrantly displaying the losing side's colors.

She'd have to watch him carefully.

The girl. Petite, young, and pretty. Maybe too much so to by flying underneath El's command. Only time would tell, however, and the look of those pistols riding the girl's hips didn't speak tales of sunshine and bunny rabbits.

"I'm Captain Lee," El said to the two, giving Reggie a sharp look at her slight emphasis. Hand thrumming the grip of her pistol, El said to the two, "Alright. Tell me what you two can offer me that I don't already have. I suggest you make the telling good; I've been told I'm a hard sell."

The Maidenhead

"No thank you, Miss. I do not find you attractive." he informed the buxom blonde prostitute. As she stormed away in a huff, William Henry Thomas returned his attention to the CorPad display and watered-down vodka gimlet occupying the table of the noisy, subterranean Beaumonde bar.

Readjusting the brim of his brown derby which the large-breasted floozy had knocked askew, he finished off the gimlet, and continued perusing the want-ads posted on the popular Cortex site "Rim-Jobs". Many of the border moons needed medical staff, but he'd become bored with tending to sickly folk and their "one-horse towns".

"Something less...stationary," he decided, navigating his CorPad towards the more granular listings on the local New Dunsmuir site. Narrowing his search to "ships seeking medical personnel", he selected the results with one sweep of his index finger, then softly commanded, "Send burst.", blasting his resume out to anyone docked at Dunsmuir Landing in need of his services.

"Another, please, he politely asked the cocktail waitress, "yes, Vodka Gimlet, with an extra lime, if you don't mind, Miss."

Suddenly, his CorPad display went to static, followed shortly by an image of the Prime Minister, ”Free Citizens of the Alliance, I stand before you…”

Apparently, his acupuncture information gathering would have to wait.

”…kill…those that seek to impose…their values and judgments on you…”

An image of his wretched step-mother materialized in his mind which he tried to ignore, unaware of the spasmic twitch in his eye.

"Not quite, Meess. Eye just like bein' well armed ees all. Tends to 'elp een my line of work."

"What line o' work requires all that?" Rei combed over the man's arsenal with her eyes. She never understood why some people felt the need to strap a whole ordnance to themselves. Hadn't yet come across the person who couldn't be dropped with one bullet, you hit them in the right place. "Huntin' rogue elephants? Quellin' prison riots? Could mount you on the hood and go after an Alliance battle cruiser, I bet."

"Rei." There was a steel in Bear's voice that told her that was enough. She flinched at it.

"Alright," she said, looking a little hurt. "Just makin' conversation..."

Her face brightened noticeably when she saw the man at the bottom of the stairs, lookin' all rugged and hunky with the manly stubble and what-all. "Well, howdy there." She couldn't determine what she found most swai about him. Had to be those eyes. Nothin' sexier than a man who looked like he knew his business and yours. Things were lookin' up already.

"Alright. Tell me what you two can offer me that I don't already have. I suggest you make the telling good; I've been told I'm a hard sell."

One look at the Captain and the man at the bottom of the stairs was forgotten. Well, almost forgotten, anyway. "Suuuu-goi..." she breathed, wondrously. The tattoos and the blue-streaked hair and unnaturally blue eyes. She had to be the shiniest Captain Rei had ever seen (which had been quite a few in her short span), and that any crew sailing under her would have to be the coolest crew ever.

"Well that's easy, Cap'n. You don't have anyone that can handle a gun like me."

By way of demonstration, she had her pistols unleashed and pointed sideways in the space of a blink, and back in the holsters before everyone could finish flinching. Rei continued as if nothing happened.

"Fastest draw and the straightest shot you'll ever see, with both hands. I'm albi-- amba-- what's that word, Bear?"

"Ambidextrous."

"Yeah, both-handed. Judgin' from the arsenal you carry inside 'n out, I'm guessin' your work ain't always the peacable sort so that might come in handy, right? I know drawin' ain't shootin', but I'm twice as shiny in that department. Could clean the dirt from under your fingernails from the other end of this cargo bay. I'd show ya if I could. And even though Bear looks like somethin' the cat dragged in, don't let that fool ya. He's pretty good with that cannon o' his an' can do lotsa other stuff besides. He even surprises me, sometimes."

Rei finally paused and looked hopefully up at the Captain. "Please take us on," she pleaded, a tone that sounded unnatural to her even as it was coming out. "We'll work real hard. I promise ya won't regret it."



(Su-goi = Japanese for "wow" or "something extreme")

While Rei jabbered on about their qualifications, Bear quietly took the ship in. The outer armor and armaments as well as the first mate's extravagant display of weaponry was worrisome to say the least; whatever business the ship was in, it couldn't be good. Violence tended to feed Rei's demons, but inactivity was far worse -- it made them boil up inside her, and the resulting explosions were filled with uncommon brutality. Beyond that, Bear was concerned for his own health. If something happened to him, there'd be nobody to take care of Rei. It was Bear and nobody else who made that promise to Toshiro in the trenches of Verbena, surrounded by shelling so thick that neither man was convinced they'd see the next sunrise. He was the only one beholden to it. He didn't want to think about what might happen to her if he wasn't around. Didn't want to think about what she might become.

Something in the man at the bottom of the stairs prompted a nod from Bear. Sunken eyes that shared echoes of the same experiences. A Browncoat. The pallid skin color and yellowish tinge in the eyes brought back a less pleasant memory. The man drank often and heavily.

The captain was another story. She looked strange enough, but there was an icy calm beneath her voice, one of insistent control. There was a hard life behind those neon blue lenses she was sporting that looked as though it might make for a good story if he was around long enough to hear it and she was willing to tell.

"Please take us on. We'll work real hard. I promise ya won't regret it."

Bear cleared his throat and spoke up. "Prone as my partner is to exaggeration, she's not far from the truth about her facility with those sidearms. I've been around a fair piece and seen plenty who was good with a gun, but I ain't lyin' to ya when I say she's one of the finest shots I've ever seen."

"One of, my shiny white pi-gu," Rei scoffed.

"She's also pretty competent at pushin' a mop or a broom," said Bear, ignoring the sudden glare he was receiving from the girl. "And liftin' whatever needs to be lifted. Don't let her size fool ya, she's stronger than she looks." Fact was, the more physical work they could put her too, the happier Bear would be. Anything to burn off the seemingly endless amount of energy the girl had in her.

"And as for myself, I didn't come out of the service lackin' for education. Seems you already found yourself a mechanic," he said, acknowledging Dade. Could always tell by a man's hands. "But I can do other things... stitch a person up okay, long as they wasn't too intent on dyin' or work a chow line if your taste buds aren't too picky, although I won't lie, you prob'ly could find better at both. I'm always happy to pitch in with the chores. Like Rei says, you'll get a full day's work outta the both of us." He paused, to let a small sigh out. "And yeah, I done some shootin' in my day."

He picked up on the Captain's dubious look in the direction of his arm bars, a look he had seen many times before. "We're just here to work, ma'am," he said, hoping that would ease her mind. "Anythin' you can offer us, we'd be grateful."

"We're just here to work, ma'am," he said, hoping that would ease her mind. "Anythin' you can offer us, we'd be grateful."

Pretty good sell," El admitted to herself. When that girl had done her Oakley, even El's quite considerable calm had been tested, then had been eased back in just as quickly. The man, Bear, seemed astute in his praising of the girl, and likely had more talents than he spoke of. If he was old as he looked, then he'd been trudging through the 'verse longer than Christ on walls.

El afforded herself a smile as she addressed the two, her hand moving off her pistol.

"Well," she said, giving Rei an approving look, "Mr. Barbossa and I are said to be fair shots, but I'll admit that you could've taken us both just then without a bullet from us. I'll tell you where the ammo is later."

Turning her eyes to the Bear, El said, "You're lacking the specialization of your partner, but that's fine. I need an everyman, and you'll likely be performing all the duties you listed, and maybe helping out Mr. Cooper," El flicked her head towards Dade, "In the engine room."

"Now," she asked, arms folded, "Can I get some names to put on the crew manifest?"

"Mr. Barbossa and I are said to be fair shots, but I'll admit that you could've taken us both just then without a bullet from us. I'll tell you where the ammo is later."

Rei quirked her head as if the thought had just occurred to her. "Yeah, suppose I coulda, huh?" She hadn't even thought about it. A flash-draw was different than one where the intent was to kill. An' them bein' all badass pirates or adventurers or whatever they were. Huh. That was something. "Don't feel bad, though. Ain't hardly the first I ever got the drop-- wait, did you say 'tell you where the ammo is later? Y'mean, you're hirin' us? AAAH!"

Rei covered her mouth up in surprise at her own squeal. They were hired. They found a ship. They found people who wanted them. Rei wanted to run around and give everyone in the room a hug, but she couldn't do that, could she? Not knowing what to do next and feeling her legs start to get wobbly, she retreated to her safe place, into the arms of Bear. He had said as much to the Captain as he had over the past week altogether, and she knew it was for her. All that time looking, all that time waiting for something to happen. All the futility and the frustrations that would build up within her and bring out her worst. Tears started to form in her eyes as Bear wrapped his arm around her. No, no, you stupid ben-dahn, don't start crying, don't let them see you like this. But she couldn't stop.

Head tucked against his chest, The Bear's gravelly baritone resonated through Rei's head. "You'll have to forgive her. It's been a rough stretch. As for our names, hers is Reiko Funaki--"

"Rei-Bomb," she said through muffled sobs.

"You feel the need to run a check, you'll see she has a record. A few fights, nothin' serious, and one shootin', which the law agreed was self-defense." Bear decided to leave the part out about how she goaded the huen dahn into drawing down and while he was indeed going for his pistol, it had never made it out of the holster.

"And my name's Wesley Johnson, but you can call me Bear. Most everyone does." He paused to look down at the girl nestled in his arms, speechless for once and leaving him to do all the talking. "We're much obliged to you, ma'am. We'll try not to disappoint ya."

(OOC Joining in with Oath's permission. Just like to say in advance that it's a true honor to work with you all, the early posts of Shangren are downright amazing. Both-handed LMAO)

The Maidenhead
Evangeline had been stuck on Beaumonde for weeks, not that she minded. There was a steady stream of work on any planet that had men on it. She had made a pretty cred here but it was time to move on. She was worldly enough to know that when one needed to get off planet, the best place to go would be a bar so to a bar she went. She found one called the Maidenhead and chuckled to herself at the many extrapolations of that name which came to mind.

Stepping inside she found it to be much like any other bar she’d seen. Drunk patrons, mostly men trying their luck with the few women in the bar, though uncommon in these bars were politicians on the monitors since most people came to a bar to get away from real life. She didn’t pay it much mind as she hadn’t the mind for politics.

She did however have an eye for fashion and that eye drew her to a man sitting alone with a drink and was just about the only man in the joint not looking to get some as he sent off a girl who at the most basic of levels was exactly like Vangy. Thin, tall, blonde and a hooker. Something inside made Vange smile at the girls rejection by the out-of-place man who was better dressed than most of the clients she’d served before being kicked out of the Guild.

A man like that didn’t belong in a place like this which meant he was likely just passing through, which meant he likely had a ship and was her ticket off. Though obviously she wasn’t going to phase him with womanly charms and sparking intelligent conversation wasn’t even a consideration, so Vange had to do something she hated to do. Think. She needed to have an excuse to talk to him. She found it as the waitress was coming back to the table with his drink. She stopped in front of her and smiled.

“Sorry t’stop ya. Just I saw yer bringin’ that drink over t’that man. I… well it’s embarrassin’ but I think he’s real cute, I don’t really know what t’say so’s I have a reason t’be there. But if y’let me bring that drink t’him. Well…” She reached into her purse and produced some credits from it.

“…I’d be real appreciative.” She blushed, something she could do on command as she could cry and oddly enough burp on command. The blush was all she needed for now though and it seemed to work. The waitress took the credits and Evangeline relieved her of the drink, letting her keep the tray.

“Thanks bao bei.” She smiled and with the drink in hand made her way to the handsome man’s table and set the drink down. She didn’t know what to say but opened her mouth and let whatever words that were waiting in her throat escape.

“Hello. Sorry t’bug you like this but I just had to come over an’ asked where in th’verse did y’find such a swai outfit. From th'style I'd say it's from Osiris but I wasn't sure.” She smiled at him, hoping she wouldn’t receive the same immediate dismissal as did the other girl.

The Maidenhead

”For…Independence…and the…Free…Branch!! Find Mei-mei…rise again.”

While he didn't appreciate the interruption, he had to admire the Frankensteinian skill of the broadwave's author. The sutured string of words and images were almost, "poetic," William Henry Thomas said to himself.

“Hello. Sorry t’bug you like this but I just had to come over an’ asked where in th’verse did y’find such a swai outfit. From th'style I'd say it's from Osiris but I wasn't sure.”

Doc locked eyes with the woman wielding the tray and drink, the woman NOT his waitress. The Vodka Gimlet on her tray had likely been spiked with an ingredient not found in any bartender's recipe book. The nature of that substance was of course dependent on the nature of the one presenting it. Was she an assassin carrying out vendetta? A drug-and-rob drop addict looking for an easy mark? Or just another trolling, filthy repository for the bodily fluids of countless men?

"At the mortuary," he lied, hoping to disgust her into leaving, thus eliminating the last two possibilities.

Vangy didn’t want to look stupid so she took a moment to think about what he said. Realizing she was taking too long she put on a smile as she prepared her reply.

“Huh. What store is that? Is that on Ariel? Or no wait. That’s th’new one on Persephone right?” She asked, genuinely ignorant to what a mortuary was.

“Ah, don’t matter. It’s probably one o’them fancy places where they make ya stand all stiff while they measure ya. Truthfully though I didn’t come t’talk ‘bout yer fine clothes. I actually was hopin’, well seein’ as you’re so well dressed an’ all, that you might be th’captain of a ship passin’ through. See I’ve been stuck here a time now an’ am figurin’ t’move on. I ain’t much use with a gun or nothin’ but I can be plenty useful if’n I’m given a chance. Could even fix th’stitchin’ on your jacket. I give it no more’n a year b’fore those seams start t’split. Girl who made it at th’mortuary or whatever y’called that shop, she didn’t do so fine a job on sewin’ it off. See I’m a seamstress… well not professional-like or nothin’ I just…” She had gone off rambling and seeing the man beginning to show the same disinterest in her as the other girl she took a deep breath and started again.

“Look mister. I really need off o’here. There’s nothin’ I won’t do if you would take me with ya when you go.” Her eyes showed how desperate she was, her teeth biting at the bottom corner of her lip as she waited and prayed he wouldn’t dismiss her. Part of her companion training had kicked in to give her as pathetic a look as she could muster.

Shangren: Aft Cargo Bay

"What line o' work requires all that?" "Huntin' rogue elephants? Quellin' prison riots? Could mount you on the hood and go after an Alliance battle cruiser, I bet."


Reggie gave the little waif of a girl a smile and said, "Aye dat ya could, but den Eye'd need a beeger knife."


"Rei."


"Alright," "Just makin' conversation..."


"Tees all right." replied Barbossa to the older man, as he waited for El to come down and meet the two. "No 'arm, no foul."


"I'm Captain Lee,"


Mr. Barbossa lowered his head and took a couple of shameful steps back. It was a minor slip of the tongue, but a slip that could mean a beating if he didn't do something quick to get back in El's good graces. He remembered the first time he called her Captain El and he was sure as the chicken bones that his mother used to tell fortunes, that he wasn't going to forget it.


"Alright. Tell me what you two can offer me that I don't already have. I suggest you make the telling good; I've been told I'm a hard sell."


Reggie B. raised his head, putting his hands behind his back as he waited for the two newcomers to tell their tale of why Captain Lee should hire them on the spot.


"Suuuu-goi..."


Barbossa smiled and nodded his head a little. Whatever su-goi meant, it was probably one of the universal words of awe when one saw Captain Lee for the first time. He remembered when he first met her. He stood outside the Shagren's cargo bay, looking at her like a deer in a hover car's headlights. It was only when she smacked him a few times and berated him, that he was able to speak.

He had told her that he was on the run and needed means of escape. He had plenty of cashy money and was willing to pay her whatever she asked. She took him onboard as a passenger and after he provided help with her ship, the rest they say was kismet.


"Well that's easy, Cap'n. You don't have anyone that can handle a gun like me."


Reggie B. raised an eyebrow at the girl's words. He had heard many a-folk say that they were the quickest draw in so-and-so part of the 'Verse. That usually ended with a bullet from one of Mr. Barbossa's guns in their brainpan. As he watched the girl draw her guns, that raised eyebrow of his was accompanied by his jaw almost hitting the floor. The girl wasn't good, but downright phenomenal. Reggie never witnessed anyone as fast as her in his life. In his mind she already had the job regardless of whether El agreed or not.


"Fastest draw and the straightest shot you'll ever see, with both hands. I'm albi-- amba-- what's that word, Bear?"


"Ambidextrous."


"Eye'll say." replied a stunned Mr. Barbossa, picking his jaw up off the floor.


"Yeah, both-handed. Judgin' from the arsenal you carry inside 'n out, I'm guessin' your work ain't always the peacable sort so that might come in handy, right? I know drawin' ain't shootin', but I'm twice as shiny in that department. Could clean the dirt from under your fingernails from the other end of this cargo bay. I'd show ya if I could. And even though Bear looks like somethin' the cat dragged in, don't let that fool ya. He's pretty good with that cannon o' his an' can do lotsa other stuff besides. He even surprises me, sometimes."


"Yep, she definitely 'as me vote." thought Reggie B., still awed by what he saw.


"Please take us on," "We'll work real hard. I promise ya won't regret it."


Reggie B. wanted to join in on the pleading too, but he restrained himself from doing so. Not because it was unprofessional of him to do so, but because El would probably beat him for it.


"Prone as my partner is to exaggeration, she's not far from the truth about her facility with those sidearms. I've been around a fair piece and seen plenty who was good with a gun, but I ain't lyin' to ya when I say she's one of the finest shots I've ever seen."


Mr. Barbossa wasn't going to argue with the old man on that. He hadn't seen her skills in action yet, but Reggie B. knew the old one's words were true.


"One of, my shiny white pi-gu,"


Reggie smiled out of the corner of his mouth and listened as the old man continued on about their skills. Granted the man wasn't as young or agile as the girl and there was that smell about him. But truth be told they needed every able bodied person who was as good as they said and didn't have a problem with their line of work, onboard the Shangren.


"Well," "Mr. Barbossa and I are said to be fair shots, but I'll admit that you could've taken us both just then without a bullet from us. I'll tell you where the ammo is later."


Reggie nodded his sentiment at El's words. She was right, the girl could've taken both of them out and there was not a thing that they would've done about it except die.


"Yeah, suppose I coulda, huh?" "Don't feel bad, though. Ain't hardly the first I ever got the drop-- wait, did you say 'tell you where the ammo is later? Y'mean, you're hirin' us? AAAH!"


Mr. Barbossa smiled as he folded his arms against his chest again. It'd be nice to have someone like her onboard to breathe some cheeriness into the Shangren's cold nooks and crannies.


"Now," "Can I get some names to put on the crew manifest?"


"You'll have to forgive her. It's been a rough stretch. As for our names, hers is Reiko Funaki--"


"Rei-Bomb,"


"Rei-Bomb." Reggie B. said in his head. "Tees cute and dangerous een a way. Eye like eet."


"You feel the need to run a check, you'll see she has a record. A few fights, nothin' serious, and one shootin', which the law agreed was self-defense."


"Dat's all right weeth us. Some of us 'ere 'ave records too. Some longer dan others, some shorter, but eet's all good een mine eyes, mon." replied Mr. Barbossa, before shutting his mouth in fear that El would give him that look again.


"And my name's Wesley Johnson, but you can call me Bear. Most everyone does." "We're much obliged to you, ma'am. We'll try not to disappoint ya."


Reggie Barbossa, first mate of the Shagren and El's right-hand man, waited for her to speak her words before he stuck out his hand and exchanged his own pleasantries.


Blue: Captain Lee
Red: Rei-Bomb
Purple: Bear

The Maidenhead

“Huh. What store is that? Is that on Ariel? Or no wait. That’s th’new one on Persephone right?”

She was either stupid beyond repair, or...

"See I’m a seamstress…well not professional-like or nothin’ I just…"

...someone with a "coincidental" trade close to William Henry's heart. He reached into his vest pocket for his watch, feigning a look at the time while taking in the image of his late biological mother, tucked in the inside top of the watch. She had been a seamstress by trade, hence, his suspicion of the potential assassin/grifter confronting him now.

"Look mister. I really need off o’here. There’s nothin’ I won’t do if you would take me with ya when you go.”

"I'm afraid I cannot help you, Miss. I do not own a ship and I'm quite satisfied with my tailor. As to the extremes of what you are willing to do, I assure you, that statement is...relative...to a number of other variables."

He took a glimpse at the Vodka Gimlet still being held hostage by the alleged "seamstress", then locked eyes with her again, "Now, if you'd please, return from whence you came and kindly send my waitress over here."

The Maidenhead

Seemed he was one of those uptight and rude rich people, proven after he sent her off as if she was a demon or something. She obviously wasn't going to get anywhere with him and braved a smile as she stood.

"Yes sir. Sorry t'bother you." She stood and with shoulders slumped went over to the bar, taking a seat on a stool and informing the waitress her client beckoned. Vange ordered a tall glass of beer and taking a long chug set the glass down on the counter and soon her chin followed, resting upon her crossed arms on the countertop as she considered her options. She wished she had more skills but it was beginning to be very obvious her talents weren't needed much except for some shady men. The bar she was in was too tame for her tastes as well, too boring.

She decided to check the docking schedule again, to see if there were any ships taking on passengers. She pulled out her pda and turned it on, though as she raised it up she hit it off the edge of the counter and dropped it. To make matters worse in her rush to catch it before it landed she smacked herself square on the head with the counter, causing her to flinch and shoot back in pain and in the tradition of if it could go wrong it would, she went too far back causing the stool to tip and within a second she was flat on her back, the wind knocked out of her slightly and the knowledge that there'd be a few eyes on her. She didn't make eye contact with anyone as she scrambled to her feet, broken pda in hand. Seeing her now useless pda she took up her mug of beer and drained it's remaining contents before raising her glass, the bartender quickly over to refill it for her. With moments passed since her spill she now had time to digest the humiliation and chuckled to herself, noting that it would've been much funnier if it had been someone else.

Dunsmuir Landing - The Shangren

As an aloof Eleanor, gunnned-up Reggie, the rugged Dade, and the dubious pair of Rei-bomb and the Bear departed the Shangren, a pair of dark green eyes watched. Watching as Eleanor stopped to check her CorPad, watching as she frowned slightly, and watching as she, with crew in tow, continued throughout the docks, losing themselves in the thick crowds.

The man attached to the green eyes sighed, looked at his watch, and set after the five, their destination the Maidenhead Bar. He traced through the cloying body of the docks like a knife, those green eyes fixed solidly to the small crew of the Shangren, moving only to blink.

----------------------------------

After a time, the five, unaware of the sixth trailing behind, came to the Maidenhead, home of vice, place of business, and the lair of Fanty and Mingo.

Eleanor stopped before the entrance, and almost gave a warning to the young Rei-bomb about the dangers of the place before stopping herself. What would the point be there? She was no child, and when Eleanor was her age...well, she'd been in a worse place than cooling her heels outside of the Maidenhead, newly hired.

"We've got a few people waiting for us here," El explained as the group moved inside, a slim green-eyed man entering a moment or two after. "A prospective doctor, and two characters the names of Fanty and Mingo, might have something to occupy our time with." Eleanor's own blue eyes surveyed the place, finding the Twins in their regular, easily-concealed spot and finally settling upon some dandy-looking chappie with the look likely of one William Henry Thomas, M.D for Hire.

"Rei, you and the Bear go talk to Dapper Dan over there," Eleanor ordered. "Tell him he's got a job barring complications. Mr. Barbossa and I will see to our work." Turning to Dade, Eleanor said, "Mr. Cooper..." Eleanor smiled as she spotted a pretty little blonde girl at the bar, looking lost for the world and lonely.

"Have a drink," she smiled, gesturing towards the woman she would come to know as Miss Chamberlain. "Mr. Barbossa? Ready to deal?"

With the pleasantries of meeting the two newest members of the crew over, it was time to do what they came to Beaumonde for. That of course was business of the cashy money kind. A well armed Reggie B. followed his blue-eyed captain as they left the ship, the others trailing behind like ducklings following their mother, through the crowds of the docks. He was careful to not step on any cracks and kept a keen eye out for any black cats or ladders.

It didn't take that long to get to where they were headed. Once they were at their destination, Reggie B. looked around, scanning the area for anything suspicious, before he entered the Maidenhead behind Captain Lee.

Maidenhead Bar

"We've got a few people waiting for us here," "A prospective doctor, and two characters the names of Fanty and Mingo, might have something to occupy our time with."


Mr. Barbossa copied El and scanned the interior of the Bar as well, taking note of the Twins as well as the floating sign off not that far to the right of the stairs, that said in red, lit, glowing letters:

NO FIREARMS NO EXPLOSIVES NO ACIDS


"Rei, you and the Bear go talk to Dapper Dan over there," "Tell him he's got a job barring complications. Mr. Barbossa and I will see to our work."


He also took note of the two people standing guard near the rotating weapon bins. One was a tall, bald, take no go-se, white male, while the other was a white female who looked just as hard as the guy. Both seemed to be watching the newcomers enter, especially Mr. Barbossa and his armaments.


"Mr. Cooper..." "Have a drink,"


Reggie hoped it was just A drink and not several. A drunk mechanic isn't very good at fixing things as well as a sober one. But then again some people have been known to do things extremely well while intoxicated.


"Mr. Barbossa? Ready to deal?"


"Aye, Captain Lee." replied Reggie B., standing proud and tall. pointing to the sign he spotted earlier, he continued, "But first Eye t'eenk we should check our weapons. Tees de right neighborlee t'eeng to do. Plus eet sateesfy dem two guardeen' de rotateen' weapon beens."

"Doc" Thomas looked over the responses to his earlier employment solicitation burst:

Given his current location, the fourth responder caught his eye. Checking his watch, he noted that author of the short, to-the-point response would be arriving soon. He hoped the impending discussion would be brief as well.

Even though he found that most border world employers cared more about one's skill set than bedside manner, William Henry Thomas knew he must prepare to mask his curt demeanor with a more amiable facade to "get his foot in the door". This was just human nature, one of the many compromises he was forced to accept in order to survive.

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, transporting himself away from his present subterranean reality, to that calming place in the shadows of his mind. The screams were...intoxicating.

"What's he doin'?"

"Can't say."

Rei-Bomb and the Bear stared quizzically at the dandy that Captain Lee had directed them to, eyes closed and looking like he was anywhere but where he was.

"Kinda peculiar, ain't it?"

"Shore is."

"Mebbe he's sleepin'.

"Sittin' up?"

"Cap'n says he's got a job 'barrin' complications.' This a complication?"

"For bein' a doctor? Don't think so."

"What if he falls asleep cuttin' on us or somethin'? And why's he get a job so easy, anyway? Thought she was a tough sell?"

"Maybe she needs a doctor more'n she needs us."

"Hmph."

"Let's focus for a second, Rei."

"I don't know.... there's somethin' about him. Makes me squirrely."

"Hm." Rei noticed The Bear didn't exactly disagree with her on that score.

"What's his name again?"

"William Henry Thomas."

"Which one is it?"

"All three."

"Well that's a dumb name."

"Doubt he picked it himself."

"Who knows, a man who takes naps sittin' up in a bar is liable to do all sortsa dumb things."

"Maybe he's a genius."

She looked up at the Bear questioningly. "How you figure that?"

"On account of him actin' so peculiar. They say genius and madness are flip sides o' the same coin."

"Which side's gonna do the operatin'?" She narrowed her eyes at the faint grin peeking out from underneath Bear's bushy moustache. "Are you makin' fun of me?"

"Lil' bit. C'mon now, I don't think the Captain's gonna take your heebie-jeebies as a valid complication."

"Alright..." Rei warily approached the table, Bear trailing close behind.

"Hey! Hey in there! You William Howard--"

"Henry"

"Whatever. You Doc Thomas? Cap'n Lee told us to come over and talk to ya."

"But first Eye t'eenk we should check our weapons. Tees de right neighborlee t'eeng to do. Plus eet sateesfy dem two guardeen' de rotateen' weapon beens."

"Hmph," Eleanor sneered, sizing up the pair standing sentry at the weapon bins. She knew the two by type if not by name; low-rent thugs willing to do any job for anyone for any amount, which was probably why they were oh-so-pleased to be standing around doing weapons checks.

"Fine," El spat after a moment of consideration, drawing her revolvers and smiling as the two guards jumped slightly. Apparently they knew her not just by type. Depositing her weapons (excluding the wooden shiv in her boot) Eleanor gave the two guards a hard stare as she did, feeling triumphant as they failed miserably to return it.

"It's the little victories, Mr. Barbossa," she said conversationally to her partner as she set her laser pistol into her bin. "Now, why don't we go get things done, alright?"

"Hmph,"


"Eye know, but what can ya do about eet?" replied Barbossa, shrugging as he took out enough coin to pay for the bins.


He handed the money over to the woman, who proceeded to put that money into the appropiate machine. The scanners inside scaned the amount on the bills as well as their authenticity. After a few seconds of computations and various beeps, two tickets popped out and the woman handed them to Mr. Barbossa, who put them in one of his pockets.


"Fine,"


"Knew ya see de light of de situation, sooner or later." replied Reggie B., as he watched the two guards jump as El drew her weapons.


Mr. Barbossa himself calmly handed his weapons over, taking care to hand them over one by one, grip first. He did it out of respect as well as intelligence. One stupid move on his part, like drawing his gun fast and pointing it barrel first, would most likely get him shot. He did however smile as the two watched him draw his huge machete, their eyes big as saucers. Their eyes returned to normal size as he calmly handed it to them grip first and bowed.


"It's the little victories, Mr. Barbossa,"


"Aye so Eye've been told, Captain." replied Mr. Barbossa as he watched his captain hand over her laser pistol. He didn't care for hand-held energy weapons, but to each their own.


"Now, why don't we go get things done, alright?"


"Lead de way, o' Captain, my Captain." replied Mr. Barbossa, smiling and giving Captain Lee a bow. Finishing with his little show of formality, Reggie B. reached into his pocket and handed Captain Lee her ticket, saying, "Dis be yours' by de way."

Unbuckling his single gun rig, he wrapped the belt around the holster, handed it to one of the bin attendants, and took his ticket. With a flick of his wrist, Dade removed his black Stetson and deposited it on a peg beside the weapons check. Free of the hat, his long hair fell to his shoulders framing his face and casting his countenance in shadow.

"Mr. Cooper...Have a drink."

A clever grin found Dade’s mouth, as he nodded toward Lee, and his rough voice found a measure of airiness…or was it eagerness?

”I believe I will, Captain.”

Moving to the bar he caught the busy bartender’s eye and pointed him toward the top shelf, held up two fingers, and mouthed ‘whiskey’. With a nod the bartender acknowledged his order and queued the request.

Shifting his weight to one elbow, he looked back over his shoulder at the Shangren’s rapidly forming crew. They seemed a decent bunch but different than the near dozen crews he had flown with since the War. As expected, Lee and Barbossa were tough as sun dried saddles; to last any length of time in this business, they would have to be…especially the Captain.

Dade never took to the notion that women fell second to men. Sure there were those that disagreed with him, but in his experience, gender held no corner on the markets of leadership and common sense. Man or woman, people either listened to you or they didn’t. However, the Rim was a trial of sorts, and the hard facts of the deal favored the man…regardless of merit.

His gaze left Lee, as she and Barbossa moved toward Fanti and Mingo’s table, and settled down the bar toward Rei and Bear.

Collectively the duo possessed an energy he hadn’t seen in awhile, and that quality drew him to the pair. The lone individual was a mystery to all. Without an acquaintance to call their bluff, a stranger could concoct all sorts of traits and behaviors…make themselves into something they weren’t. But a pair…well now, that was a horse of a different color. Just by observing the girl and the old man, a sharp person would pick up a few things immediately: love, strength, and loyalty being the most prevalent. Dade smiled; love, strength and loyalty…what else did you need to know?

The bartender arrived with two shots of the Maidenhead’s best whiskey. After paying the man, Cooper stared at the liquor in front of him…a reminder that he possessed none of the qualities he admired in Rei and Bear. The two shots stared back, daring him to challenge their silent assessment of his worth.

Drunks drank for many reasons, but Dade had narrowed the causes to three general clusters: those who drank to forget the Past, those that looked to dull the Present, and those that feared the Future. He fell into the latter group, but he didn’t necessarily fear the Future…he mourned it because the man he should have been would never see it.

His hand found one of the shots, but he didn’t drink it. Instead he turned to the pretty blond beside him and tapped Vangy lightly on the shoulder. Not waiting to see if she looked or not, Dade put on his best smile and took his charm dancing,
”Miss, I got a powerful need to wet my whistle, but tradition holds I share my first gulp with someone. Without a fellow sinner sippin’ the Devil’s drink, I’ll be forced to refrain, which will make for a damn dull night, so in the interest of companionship and my thirst, would you like to share a sin with me?”

Linus set his sidearm in the bins and snatched the ticket without a second glance, wandering down the steps into the dingy foray of the bar and taking a good look at the night's patronage.

He'd come under the promise of work from the Twins, but, eying a few of the finer female specimens, considered blowing the work off entirely to pursue... other endeavors.

Walking up to the bar, he nodded to the bartender, who uncapped a beer and handed it to him without saying a word. Turning his back to the bar, he listened to the geezer trying to seduce the sultry young blond at the end of the bar.

”Miss, I got a powerful need to wet my whistle, but tradition holds I share my first gulp with someone. Without a fellow sinner sippin’ the Devil’s drink, I’ll be forced to refrain, which will make for a damn dull night, so in the interest of companionship and my thirst, would you like to share a sin with me?”

Scratching at his beard and doing his best not to laugh aloud, Linus downed half his bottle with a single swig and continued along. There was a doubly-old geezer and a tiny little asian number talking to a creepy looking chap with an odd sense of fashion... then the usual rabble of trollops and troglodytes he'd not touch with a ten foot pole (at least not again) and then... a crazy looking blue-haired lady and her dreadlocked companion...

Finishing his beer and motioning for another, he watched as the last of the odd groupings moved towards the Twins' table. He caught Mingo's eye (or was that Fanty?) and nodded, signaling that he was present and still willing.

Evangeline had nearly given up on finding a ride off-planet and had commenced the formulating of a plan to scrape by a little longer on Beaumonde. As she thought herself in circles she heard a voice coming from beside her and turned to see a hunky guy talking her up. What he was actually saying was more or less greek, something about sins or something but at the end of it was an offer to drink and she wasn’t one to turn down a drink, especially when the one she’d be sharing it with was as the girls on her home moon Whitefall would say ‘the living end.’

She didn’t understand what that meant but she knew it translated to hot, which the man beside her was. She met his smile with her own, she realized this was her opportunity as he’d come in with others who were heavily armed, one especially, and that only meant that they likely were here on business since Beaumonde usually didn’t require a full artillery to walk it’s streets in safety.

“Well heck. We only just met. Why not we share this drink first. Then maybe…” She leaned in closer as she flipped her hair over her shoulder.

“Maybe... we can get t’sinnin’.” She giggled a moment before jutting out her hand.

“Evangeline. You can call me Vange or Ange or heck you bought me a drink call me whatever yuh’d like.” She really didn’t care if she was being too forward, as long as she could keep him interested in her without having him think she was playing him. It had been a rough few weeks and she was getting down to the nitty gritty as far as credits were concerned, if like she was assuming these new attendees to the bar were from a ship she had very little time to make a big impression on them.

This had been her problem with other ships, she had two skills and not often did spacer’s care about rips in their clothes and she didn’t particularly like the other offers made to her by obviously depraved men who had been in space too long. She had a feeling that she might have no other choice. If she wanted to get off, they had to get off. With the crew that came in and the man beside her being as welcoming to the eyes as he was, that wasn’t going to be so much of a problem for her. Though it would be her last resort if she could somehow convince him and whoever was captain that she could be useful in some way, still assuming that they were from a ship even.

“Maybe... we can get t’sinnin’.”

With a smile, he shook her offered hand.

“Evangeline. You can call me Vange or Ange or heck you bought me a drink call me whatever yuh’d like.”

"Evangeline, my name's Daedalus Cooper but them that know me call me Dade."

His grin was genuine and caring, as he took in the thin girl with desperate eyes. Tucking his hair behind his ears, he raised his glass,
”Here’s to life’s little questions…them that don’t seem to have answers.”

With each question he would either smile, shrug his shoulders, or simply shake his head,
”What is Love? Can the child within my heart rise above? Can I sail through the changin’ ocean tides? Can I handle the seasons of my life?”

Dade held his drink up to her’s, and his eyes held a hint of tenderness they hadn’t known for a long span,
”And here’s to new friends…who just might help us with the answers.”

Dade clinked his shot glass off of Vangy’s, drank it in one smooth swallow, and winked,
”Evangeline, what brings a pretty girl like you down here to the,” he waved his right hand at the bar, ”rough and tumble.”

With his left hand he ordered another round from the bartender.


(Dade's questions courtesy of Fleetwood Mac)

Intoxicating screams in an ocean of red waves, rising, falling, rising, falling...crashing into the jaws of the giant, green monster. Yet those caught in the waves did not fear the giant, instead they reveled in it's presence, rising in awe for each offered sacrifice, screaming louder and louder to quench the unquenchable. Trapped in the center, uniformed men, some covered in red, some a bruised blue, all surrounded by the merciless sea of red screams, fought an eternal battle amongst themselves...brother against brother, father against son, man against beast.

Will Henry thrived here, this virtual arena...a distant, but coveted memory in his mind's eye. It was a place of joy and excitement, a fortress of bliss...and his last happy memory of Father. The holographic sea of red they had shared at New Cooperstown would soon be washed away by another metaphorical sea of red, a darker, arterial red. All because of her.

No. She...it was not allowed here. Not this place. The slant-eyed, yellow-skinned demoness was banished from this place.

"Hey! Hey in there! You William Howard--"

"Henry"

"Father?" he called out in his mind.

"Whatever. You Doc Thomas? Cap'n Lee told us to come over and talk to ya."

William Henry Thomas slowly opened his eyes, returning to the here and now of the noisy Maidenhead. Before him stood a young, raven haired demon...of Nipponese descent he guessed. Next to the demon waif stood her keeper, a haggard, hound-dog of a man.

The demon's presence, however, did not shake William Henry, his inward journey had brought him immunity to her effects...for now. He rose, removed his derby hat, and extended a warm smile and hand to the young demon child, "Forgive me, I was caught up in meditation. Indeed, I am Dr. William Henry Thomas, very pleased to meet you, Miss?"

“Rough an’ tumble?” Vange nearly laughed as she looked around the room. This bar was tame by her standards, they even took your weapons at the door. Not that she had any weapons. She was surprised at how philosophical Dade seemed to be. That sort of stuff never registered with her but it was sweet to hear him talk her up so much. She wondered if she need bother telling him it was much simpler than that with her. Vangy took another look around the bar before answering his question.

“Well this place ain’t so rough, more like a de-clawed kitten. Ain’t been a single barfight in th’whole place. Back home there’d be a brawl ev’ry few minutes. Kinda miss home now that I think of it. Truth is I came here lookin’ t’get off this planet. Seems nobody got need for someone, wh’ain’t got no skills t’offer other’n th’sewin’ of clothes or takin’ them off.” She ordered another couple drinks, she was on about her eighth and starting to feel the warm buzz of drunkenness take over her in waves. After a moment of thought she figured she had better tell him her meaning about her skills before he came to his own conclusions, not that they’d be far off from the truth.

“See I was a companion in trainin’ but I guess they didn’t much care for me on account they want worldly folk for that job. I tell ya, you put me in a room with those aristo… arsto? Arstocrats? That how you say it?” She asked herself aloud as she receded into her mind to figure it out.

“Ah rut it. Rich folk, y’know? See my vocabilary ain't so good. Anyway I’d stick out more’n well…” She looked over Dade’s shoulder to see the blue-eyed woman again.

“Kinda like her.” She nodded to Eleanor.

“So Mr. Dade. You mind I ask what you’re at th’bar for? Those people over there, th’ones y’came in with, you all crew or somethin’?” She tried to be natural as she slid her question in.

Though the name over the door said ‘Maidenhead’, the club’s true title rested with the matching kings of the realm, Fanty and Mingo. Their business kept the doors open and the power on…without the twins the lively bar would grow dark and cold, a tomb in point of fact. This night was like any other for the brothers…the Maidenhead was open for business, and so were they.

As Eleanor and Reggie approached, both of the twins stood from their corner table, wearing smirks earned through cunning and guile.

”Why brother, I do believe our guests have arrived,” observed Mingo.

Fanty pulled an expensive looking pocket watch from his vest, thumbed open the face guard, and marked the hour. With a smile, he looked at the pair,
”Captain Lee and Mr. Barbossa, right on time…a pity you weren’t early though. We had a sweet deal cross our desk not thirty minutes past…one that fit your unique talents.”

Mingo waved his hand, brushing his brother’s comments away,
”It is bad form to talk of other dealings. Come. Sit. Let us discuss the business of the Shangren”

Waiting for Eleanor and Barbossa to sit, Fanty continued,
”Tell me Captain is the Shangren equipped for a livestock run? We have a lordly number of chickens that need to move from here to there.”

”Tell me Captain is the Shangren equipped for a livestock run? We have a lordly number of chickens that need to move from here to there.”

El stared at the twins for a solid, disgust-filled second before her eyes narrowed and her gloved hands, resting on top of the table, tightened into fists.

"Chickens," El said to the air, a confirmation of what she had just heard. Smiling coldly, she said to Fanty, "We don't do livestock. No. You want them moved, find some hauler with more cargo space than brains. Now, onto something interesting."

Leaning towards the Twins, Eleanor said quietly, an edge of violence in her words, "I've got a new crew, boys, itching to do real work, which, in case you didn't get the memo, does not constitute shuttling around rutting meatbirds." El smiled at them, the same iciness still there.

"I want real work, boys. No chickens."

"I want real work, boys. No chickens."


"Aye, mon, no cheeckens." replied Mr. Barbossa, arms folded across his chest. Unfolding them, he pointed to each of them and continued, "You want someone to deleever cheeckens, you 'ire some slackjawed, redneck, podunk, weeth t'ree feengers on one 'and, by de name of Cletus."


Chickens? Ha! That was a joke and then some. If Fanty and Mingo expected El and Reggie to haul a bunch of squawking, pooping, smelly chickens halfway across the 'Verse and back, they had another thing coming. Nope there wasn't going to be any chickens onboard the Shangren, unless they were grilled, broiled, barbecued, or fried. If the Twins wanted El and Reggie's business, they had to offer something worthwhile.


Crossing his arms across his chest again, Reggie B. stated matter-of-factly, "Now why don't ya tell us about dis sweet deal you 'ad 'alf a 'our ago?"

"Forgive me, I was caught up in meditation. Indeed, I am Dr. William Henry Thomas, very pleased to meet you, Miss?"

Rei eyed him skeptically. Well now that he's back amongst the livin', I guess he looks alright. She grabbed his hand and gave it a firm shake. "Meditatin', huh? You a Buddhist? My ma and pa were Buddhists. Never could sit still long enough to do it myself. Meditatin', I mean."

She plopped into the seat opposite him and kicked her black, snakeskin boots up onto the table. She whistled sharply, grabbing the attention of a passing waitress. "Beer me. An' a water for my friend here," she gestured to The Bear, taking a seat beside her, who nodded his assent.

"Name's Rei-Bomb, this here's The Bear. We're, uh, security for the Shangren." She rolled the term around in her head, deciding she liked the sound of it. "That's Cap'n Lee's ship. She says you're figurin' on bein' ship's doc. Can't say I ever seen anyone dressed like you sign up for a crew post, though. Passengin', sure, but not as a full-timer."

Rei idly looked around, catching Dade talking up a hot, blonde number at the bar. Way to go, Coop, she thought, lamenting how much she could use some action herself. The waitress arrived with their drinks, and she took a long pull from her glass before returning her attention to the dandy in front of her.

"So," she said, punctuating it with a gassy belch, "ain't seen many take up the glamorous life aboard a vessel who wasn't either desperate for coin or suited to it. Ya don't look like you're hurtin' for money, Doc, so what's your story? Ya kill a patient or somethin'?"

"Meditatin', huh? You a Buddhist? My ma and pa were Buddhists. Never could sit still long enough to do it myself. Meditatin', I mean."

"I..." the signal from the firing synapses in the language cortex of his brain never stood a chance of traversing the nerves to his impotent vocal cords before the demon bumble bee was seated and firing upon the hapless bar wench..."Pffweeeeet! Beer me. An' a water for my friend here," she gestured to the old hound-dog, who took a seat beside her, nodding his assent, almost as if to say, "Bet you ain't seen nothin' the likes a this one before, have ya there, fancy fella?"

"Very pleas..." again, William Henry Thomas' new found neural speech impediment manifested itself in the nanosecond between the plopping of her buttocks and the thunk of her scaly boots upon his table..."Name's Rei-Bomb, this here's The Bear. We're, uh, security for the Shangren...that's Cap'n Lee's ship. She says you're figurin' on bein' ship's doc. Can't say I ever seen anyone dressed like you sign up for a crew post, though. Passengin', sure, but not as a full-timer."

"I see, I..." An espresso-dipped bumble bee trapped in a glass jar...A deep swig, and "So, *BELLLLCH*, ain't seen many take up the glamorous life aboard a vessel who wasn't either desperate for coin or suited to it. Ya don't look like you're hurtin' for money, Doc, so what's your story? Ya kill a patient or somethin'?"

No, a DOUBLE espresso-dipped bumble bee on adrenaline drops trapped in a glass jar mimicking an excited electron.

"I," he started, unsure if the sound waves were real, or if his mind's ear was still hearing, "...I am a doctor," was all he could muster, exhausted from their "conversation".

"I want real work, boys. No chickens."

"Now why don't ya tell us about dis sweet deal you 'ad 'alf a 'our ago?"

Mingo’s face grew cold,
”That’s not how it works, Sunshine. We find the jobs. We divvy out said jobs. We do this…Fanty and Mingo…not Eleanor and Reginald. Egos like yours should be checked at the door along with your weapons because both will find you trouble on the floor of the Maidenhead. Now why don’t…”

With a nervous laugh, Fanty interrupted his brother,
”Children, children, let’s collect ourselves a moment shall we. I fear we have allowed emotions to creep into business, a place where they most assuredly do not belong.”

Leaning back Fanty crossed his legs and addressed Barbossa,
”To be fair, Sunshine, we make it a habit of separating our various…transactions, but since our relationship is relatively young, I will indulge you.”

Mingo’s head slowly turned to regard Fanty.

”As was mentioned, not thirty minutes passed, we received word of an unregistered BlueSun shipment, making its way through our fair city.”

Mingo placed his hand on Fanty’s shoulder,
”Brother, perhaps we should keep the speci…”

Ignoring his twin, Fanty continued,
”Seems BSC needed to off-world the final production phase of their new Cortex platforms, four dozen Kyoto 3.0s to be precise. The Jock community has been salivating over these new decks, so their demand is enormous. The job was simple, intercept at the Greystoke Shipyards and report to the Griffin Skyplex circling fair Beaumonde.”

Mingo’s hand began to squeeze his brother’s shoulder,
”We should refrain…”

Shaking off his twin’s hand, Fanty leaned over the table, staring at Eleanor…all the mirth absent from his dark gaze,
”These are the types of jobs we offer. They make cashy money for all parties involved, but more importantly, Precious, they led to more work. However, you do not start at the top…first you haul chickens, and when you have proven yourselves, we engage you for more fitting tasks.”

Realizing his brother’s bent, Mingo turned back to Lee and Barbossa,
”So, would you like the warehouse number and destination for our flock, or should we look for others more eager.”

“So Mr. Dade. You mind I ask what you’re at th’bar for? Those people over there, th’ones y’came in with, you all crew or somethin’?”

The bartender filled both of their orders, resulting in a logjam of shot glasses between the two of them. Quickly rectifying the situation, Dade threw one whiskey shot down his throat fast enough to hand the glass back to the busy bartender, who promptly refilled it.

Laying down enough credits for both his round and Vangy’s, he turned back to his new acquaintance,
”Evangeline, as luck would have it, I’ve recently signed aboard a ship on the hire, and them folks are my crew. Now I don’t presume to know the Captain’s plans, but if they involve takin’ on passengers, I’ll gladly vouch for you, if you want.”

Swallowing another shot, he smiled over the bar at Rei-Bomb, chuckling at both her choice of footwear and her colorful belch. Looking back at Vangy he widened his eyes and raised his eyebrows comically,
”Lively bunch, my new crew,” ordering another round, he withdrew his crumpled pack of cigarettes and offered one to Vangy,”If you don’t mind me askin’, where you headed? Home or just off Beaumonde?”