Righteous and the Wicked, Season 1: Episode 1

[The Shangren]

What is anything but just the start of another path? A smile, a bow, a handshake...they each last the tiniest fraction of your life, but all that means is they can change your life quicker than anything.

A venturing smile to a quixotic stranger, a bow just before a duel...the first handshake with a new employer. All preludes to something new, each one a tiny moment with the power to change your life forever.

Of course, it's between you and chance to decide if it changes for the better.

Folks, welcome to Episode 1 of the Shangren Season 1...

Righteous and the Wicked.

Like people say, a new day has dawned. So far, the day hasn't been particularly eventful. It's been a day of restocking, inventory, and check-ups, both medical and mechanical. Luggage has been transported, and the crew/passenger manifest has been written up. All in all, it's been a day of mundane duty. Behind it all, however, is a sense of anticipation; all day, the crew has been expecting Vamp's wave, and El is starting to get a little irritated.

Nonetheless, they have no
choice but to wait...right now, the sun is on the way out, and pure busy-work is all the crew can do. Just take a look:

Engine Room: Dade, Maria, and Miriam are currently occupied (and have been for most of the day) with renovations of the unfortunately dilapidated engine.

Operations: New co-pilot Ari Blessing is now going over the specs along with Mr. Barbossa.

Galley: Rei-Bomb and the Bear, along with Vangy, are enjoying a nice relaxing meal prepared by the Bear.

Infirmary: Eleanor and the Doc are busy going over crew medical histories.

(Remember, send the Doc your medical histories. The man has a job to do.)

Speaking of jobs, how's about we all get to ours?

(OOC: If there are secrets in your medical histories, please send Doc Thomas a PM, and he'll pass it along to Eleanor in a more private fashion.

Alright, folks. Get postin'! Feel free to move around, but remember that Vamp will actually call at some point, so choose your time well. ;) Don't wait on a post Eleanor, just GO!

[Vangy Chamberlain]

It was exciting. Or not quite excitement but the expectation of not long from the present time. Like the slow incline of a roller coaster before it plummeted downwards from the peak. That was what Vange felt as she sat in the kitchen enjoying the best meal she’d had in weeks if not months. She was on a new ship with plenty of people and certainly after what she’d seen already of this crew it was going to be an adventure to travel with them.

Fortunately or unfortunately for the other two in the room with her, she was in one of her talkative moods. She usually did talk a lot during meals, not that she was ever the silent mysterious type but around new people her mouth could produce dozens of words in a matter of seconds.

”… So by th’end of it. He was handcuffed to th’towel rack with his legs tangled up in his pants an’thuh broken pipe sprayin’ water all over him. It must've been a sight when th’maid came in. I just up an' scooted right on out though. After takin' my fare for th'night o'course.” Vange couldn’t help but chuckle herself at the incident, it never got tired and she never got tired of telling it.

”Oh and then this one time on Persephone…” Vange cut herself off. If she’d already gotten to the Persephone story it meant that she’d already told them at least four other stories, she was eager to tell them and often flowed from one right into the next. She remembered what Neeva told her about rambling, specifically that she did it too much. Looking over the two she chewed on her lower lip for a second before speaking again.

”Sorry, gosh I must’ve been talkin’ a good half hour. Gotta slap me when I do that, my mentor Neeva said that’s th’only thing’ll shut me up once I get goin’. So anyway, how ‘bout you two. Any stories you like sharin’?” Vange turned the attention away from herself and onto them.

This post has been edited by Vangy Chamberlain on Jun 29 2008, 07:43 AM

[Dade Cooper]

Engine Room...what's left of it

*Clang*

”Gorramitt!!”, Dade roared from the access port underneath the Shangren’s pulse drive.

The ratchet dropped beside his head as he cradled his ravaged knuckles. The head lamp he wore bobbed and dipped as his gaze shifted from his wound to the source of his torment, the factory installed plasma cell.

Naked to the waist, the mechanic was covered in the byproducts of his occupation, grease, oil, sealant and dried flaking bonding agent. While lying prone, his back scrapped against the rough grating of the seldom visited sub compartment, and the choked darkness was filled with the tangy taste of solder and possibilities.

In that dim light of isolation, Dade’s sea-green eyes slowly turned to his hands. Each shook with uncontrollable tremors, as his body reacted to the absence of alcohol in his system. He kept flexing his fingers, as if trying to work out a cramp, but the spasms continued mockingly. The eyes that watched the plight of his appendages were ringed with dark circles, and his skin held a strange yellowish pallor. Between his ears pounded an addict’s headache, replete with nausea and vertigo. The mere fact that he was working and working well was a testament to his stubbornness.

Fear, he had learned, was a powerful motivator.

For the first time since the War, he knew terror. He harbored little illusions about Captain Lee. If she saw him in this condition, Dade had no doubt that she would fire him on the spot, and the thought scared him more than a lifetime spent in a bottle. Something was different with the Shangren…here he mattered. Everywhere else in the ‘Verse he was just an old War drunk, but here Daedalus Cooper was the man he had been during the War. His crewmates saw a man that hadn’t failed at life but rather a man that could be counted on.

With tears streaming down his filthy face, Dade watched as his hands twitched like poorly operated marionettes, and he squeezed his eyes shut. In the darkness of the Shangren's heart, a son made his silent plea,
”Please Pop…please make it stop. If they see me with the shakes, they’ll put me back on the dirt, and if they put me back on the dirt, I’ll climb inside a bottle…climb inside for good. Please Pop…please don’t let ‘em see…please don’t let them look at me diff’rent.”

Unfortunately Oak Cooper held little sway in this arena, and his son’s hands, the tools of his trade, continued to spasm with the sins of the past.

Collecting himself, Dade finished removing the last bolt restraining the large plasma fuel cell and yelled to Miriam and Maria, who were above him in the Engine Room proper,
”There…you should be able to lift the gorram thing out! You guys yell when you’re ready, and I’ll push from down here.”

With cold chills making gooseflesh of his arms, unexplained sweat soaking his pale flesh, and dark circles under his eyes, Dade Cooper moved his shaking hands into position and tried to make it through his first sober day.

[Miriam]

Even black will show the dirt if you get into enough of it, or if it's the right color and consistency. At least she had something to change into from the day's shopping runs. Hadn't come to the Shangren with anything more than what she carried, but all it took was a brief stop to pack her entire apartment, or at least those things worth carrying away, into a mid sized dufflebag and a small backpack. If she hadn't been leaving on a ship, the duffle's contents would have stayed behind to be thrown out when the rent wasn't paid. Miriam didn't keep many possessions, and those she couldn't easily replace were always on her person. When you had to move, your stuff just slowed you down. Still, when you had collected a supply of what you needed, retrieving it was cheaper and easier than re-shopping for it.

Working in an engine room was hot as well as dirty work, and after a while of collecting oil, grease, grime and sweat, she had finally relented and tossed her long sleeved black pullover to the side, working in her black karate pants, rolled up above the knee, and a black sports bra. It meant that the large Hebrew tattoos covering her inner forearms were on display, and the criss crossing lines of faint, white scars, and a few fresher scabbed lines, covering the backs of her arms. Normally, she kept her arms covered, but really, there was no way given the size of the ship and the size of the crew that she'd have a private room, or a private shower. At the very least, the women she'd be rooming with would have seen her unclothed eventually. There were always ways to explain things, and people usually accepted easy explanations whether they believed them or not.

None of the scars crossed the black lines of the tattoos though. She wouldn't cut across them, and that was one of the reasons they were there. To keep the razor out of the danger zone.

”There…" came Dade's voice from below. "you should be able to lift the gorram thing out! You guys yell when you’re ready, and I’ll push from down here.”

Sure, he looked like hammered go-se. He was doing the lion's share of the physical labor, though, and inhaling god knows what in the confined spaces and neglected insides of the old engine compartment. Probably take a mallet to anyone's head. He looked like some of the druggies she had known, but it was probably just the work.

It was easy. She could accept that.

"You got that end?" she called to Maria, grasping the heavy part with gloved hands. "I can handle the weight, but this is a bit unbalancing here, and think gravity might love that thing a bit more than it loves me."

[Reggie Barbossa]

Operations

His face still hurt from where El had punched him. It was a good omen that she hadn't broken his jaw or anything else and he still was able to talk. His right eye was still a little swollen, but he could open and close it, as well as see out of it. Hurt like hell when he blinked it though and he winced every time he did so. To those who asked about it, Reggie B. simply stated that he "walked" into a closed door. Whether or not they believed that explanation was a discussion for another time.


Going over the specs was a good way to avoid the captain or so Barbossa thought. Looking over the spec sheet on hand, Reggie B. asked Ari, "So, mon, ees evert'eeng lookeen' good to you or ees dere somet'eeng dat needs to be changed?"

[Ari Blessing]

The young man still buzzed from excitement. He was a pilot, a real pilot. Alright, well co-pilot...but still. He grinned ear to ear until he realized Barbossa had asked a question. For a moment his grin slipped as he forced his mind to recall the words. Something about the specs at if they were okay.

The teen nodded enthusiastically. "Everything's right and shiny Mr Barossa." He assured with his grin reattached. "Seems so to me anyways." He added glancing hurriedly at the man. He glanced back at the sheets they had been looking at, a sudden fear of being tested flashing through his mind. Did Barbossa know he wasn't paying attention very well? Was this a drill to make sure he could pick up detail? Well they can't rightly dump me yet. Least ways I'm up in the air. The man comforted himself and nodded, lifting his eyes from the charts. "Yea, Right an' Shiny." He said decisively, making sure his eyes were clear of indecision.


((Sorry it's so short. Sorta brain dead atm.))

[Reggie Barbossa]

"Everything's right and shiny Mr Barossa." "Seems so to me anyways."


"You sure about dat, mon?" asked Mr. Barbossa curiously with a raised eyebrow. "Cause ya be jumpeen' around de place t'ree ways from Sunday."


He wanted the jumpy, overly excited man to be 110% sure of his readings. Cause if he wasn't, then Barbossa would probably get another beating or something worse, while Ari would probably wind up getting thrown off the ship quicker than a door-to-door vacuum salesman. Granted whether or not he'd be alive when he hit the ground was entirely up to Captain Lee. After his face had an intimate encounter with Lee's fist, Barbossa didn't want a second date with it.


"Yea, Right an' Shiny."


"Good to 'ear eet, mon. Eye'll comm de captain and tell 'er our statees." replied Barbossa, giving the man a small grin before turning away slightly and wincing from the pain. Reaching for the comm he punched in the channel for the infirmary and said into it, "Captain Lee, dis be Barbossa een Ops. Everyt'eeng be runneen' smoot'er den a babee's bottom en 'ear. Shall we conteenue or do you want to 'ead up 'ere and geeve eet your approval?"

[Maria Conley]

"You got that end?" she called to Maria, grasping the heavy part with gloved hands. "I can handle the weight, but this is a bit unbalancing here, and think gravity might love that thing a bit more than it loves me."


"I got it," Maria said. "Damn, it's good to be working engines again. Especially with an old buddy like Dade here..." He didn't look too well, though. She grinned at him - grinned? She hadn't done that in about a year! - and tried to inspect his face a little closer...figure out what in space was wrong with him.

She got ready to lift the plasma cell, keeping her muscles relaxed. She sure as hell wasn't going to pop a hernia first day on the job. "Of course, I'm making new friends too. It's slow...everyone has to earn my trust. But I sense I've got to earn yours as well..."

Despite that, this was going to be a hell of a ship, that much was plain.


OOC: Sorry I missed this lol...I forgot that I was only subscribed to the first episode and got busy with other games, namely a Star Trek RP I have a lot of friends at :P

[Eleanor Lee]

OPERATIONS

"Captain Lee, dis be Barbossa een Ops. Everyt'eeng be runneen' smoot'er den a babee's bottom en 'ear. Shall we conteenue or do you want to 'ead up 'ere and geeve eet your approval?"

"I'm right here," El said, appearing wraithlike from the hallway. Settling into a lean against the doorway, El folded her arms, tattoos prominent. Giving Ari her patented 'chill-the-blood-until-it-freezes' gaze, El said, "Consider 'eet' approved." Turning her eyes to Reggie, El's look softened slightly.

"Reggie, we've got a problem; our doctor, the esteemed William Henry Thomas, is no longer a member of this crew due to...unforeseen circumstances. Since you seem so capable," El said, casting a sideways glance at Ari, "in hiring new crew, I'm giving you the responsibility of locating a new sawbones."

"Now, Mr. Blessing; have you spoke with Miriam yet as to the chain of command?"

OOC: All people interested in a medical position aboard the Shangren, please direct PMs to Reggie Barbossa.

[Dade Cooper]

Engine Room

For a short span he would be the only one lifting the plasma cell because of its angled position inside the main body of the Shangren’s engine. Dade would need all of his strength to press the large metal ovoid up to Miriam and Maria.

But just as he readied himself a violent wave of nausea twisted his stomach in on itself, and the former Browncoat barely had time to turn his head before an explosion of frothy vomit errupted from his lips. The terrible seizing in his stomach didn’t ebb but intensified with each second, threatening to drive him into a pain induced unconsciousness.

Fighting to stay awake, Dade turned on his side as another bile filled pop flowed from him. Wrenching muscles gave him no quarter, and tear filled eyes robbed him of his sight. He couldn’t even get enough breath to yell for help.

Then as quickly as it had come, the nausea vanished.

The mechanic wiped his mouth and savored a few pain free gasps, and then he returned to his position under the plasma cell and yelled,
”Lift!”

The muscles corded in his chest and arms, but any ache paled in comparison to the blitzkrieg his abdomen had absorbed moments before.

A minute later, the fuel cell rested on the decking beside the engine, and Daedalus was pulling himself up through the same hole. Covered in all manner of dirt and grease, the mechanic dropped down next to the fuel cell and reached for his cigarettes on the workbench above. Lighting a smoke, he turned to the two women with a forced smile,
”Sorry friends, I got a lungful of somethin’ traitorous down there…seems to have had a disagreement with my innards.”

Not bothering to brush the hair from his face, he sat with his back against his workbench, completely exhausted.

When he spoke again, his normally strong voice had weakened considerably,
”Just gimme a short span…then we’ll get to work attachin’ the argon port.”

A second later, with his cigarette still clenched between his fingers, Daedalus passed out.

[Reggie Barbossa]

Operations

"I'm right here,"


Barbossa placed the comm back in its cradle at the sound of Lee's voice. She didn't sound like she wanted to beat the living snot out of him. Well at least not yet anyways, but the day was still young and Barbossa's bruised and battered muscles were still healing.


"Reggie, we've got a problem; our doctor, the esteemed William Henry Thomas, is no longer a member of this crew due to...unforeseen circumstances. Since you seem so capable," "in hiring new crew, I'm giving you the responsibility of locating a new sawbones."


"Aye aye, Captain Lee, Eye'll see what Eye can do." replied Barbossa, giving Lee a small, polite bow of his head. Getting onto the Cortex via the nearest vidscreen he typed up a want ad, then waited until after Mr. Blessing answered El's question, and said looking to his captain, "We should probablee look for a new gunner or two as well, seence Meester MeecKellan also flew de coup."

[Ari Blessing]

Ari had half hoped that the Capitan would forget he was there. That women scared him. It wasn't just her look, though honestly, she was blue. The way aggression that seemed to be in her actions and the sharp way she gave orders made him nervous. But lady luck did not run with him this time.

"Now, Mr. Blessing; have you spoke with Miriam yet as to the chain of command?"

Ari shook his head. "No Ma'am. I-I mean Capitan." He said, hastily correcting himself. "I think she's in the engine room working with the mechanics." He added, hoping to at least sound like he was helpful.

So their doctor had left. Well, that was never good news. No doc meant a skirmish was a hell of a lot more dangerous. Not that Ari was all that sure he wanted to go around and plan to get into fights. But it was just Murphy's law. What they weren't prepared for would happen.

"If'n Mariam is still busy, Ma- Capitan, I haven't gotten a chance to set stuff in a room yet." He had a room of course. But the young man hadn't gotten a chance to set anything in place yet. But right now he watched The Capitan warily, half afraid she would throw him out of the air lock or something.

((Just trying to get Ari out of the way while I'm gone. Feel free to god mod him if you need for a while.))

[Eleanor Lee]

"No Ma'am. I-I mean Capitan." He said, hastily correcting himself. "I think she's in the engine room working with the mechanics."

"Mm," Eleanor muttered. "She'll brief you on it later, if she isn't too busy." Hopefully, Miriam and the mechanics were making a dent in the engine upgrades.

"If'n Mariam is still busy, Ma- Capitan, I haven't gotten a chance to set stuff in a room yet."

El let out a short laugh. "Mr. Blessing, I wouldn't worry about 'stuff.' We're a crew of ten-plus on a boat easily crewed by five. Rooming will be a problem I hope yourself and the rest of the crew will be able to deal with." Truthfully, El was worried about the size of the crew in regards to the space they had available. If things kept going this way, they would have to convert one of the bays into living space.

"We should probablee look for a new gunner or two as well, seence Meester MeecKellan also flew de coup."

"Or two?" El said, ice in her voice. "I suppose I'll hire someone, and then you'll bring in Mr. Cooper's long-lost brother as a favor or something. Is that what will happen, Mr. Barbossa?" El didn't mention that she could split the crew in half and still have every essential position filled. Wait...was Reggie planning a mutiny? Was that why he had begun hiring of his own accord, to build up his own crew within a crew?

Remembering that Reggie's most cunning plans consisted of firing more bullets than the opposition did, El dismissed the possibility of mutiny.

[Reggie Barbossa]

"Or two?" "I suppose I'll hire someone, and then you'll bring in Mr. Cooper's long-lost brother as a favor or something. Is that what will happen, Mr. Barbossa?"


He hated it when she accused him of something he wasn't keen on doing in the first place. It wasn't like this was the first time it had happened and he doubted that this current accusation would be the last. He turned his attention back to the ad he had written up and deleted the portion about the need for gunners. He then turned his sights back towards Lee and returned her iciness with some of his own, "No, eet won't."


Barbossa hit send and stood up. He closed the distance between him and Lee, his face inches from hers' as he stood at her feet and continued, "But Eye be t'eenkeen' once we geet a new doctor, dey'll be able to surgeecallee remove dat excess beetcheeness and doubt of yours', and replace eet weeth somet'een' dat resembles confeedence een your First Mate and perhaps a leettle kindness."


He looked into her eyes for a moment longer, then took a step back and said before leaving, "Eye'm 'eadeen' to de gallee. Your beleettleen' of me eentegreetee ees makeen' me t'irstee."

[Miriam]

As Dade slumped, Miriam stepped forward and caught him with one hand against his chest while plucking the cigarette from his fingers with the other.

"Hey!" she said, holding the cigarette up over her head, smoke curling up towards the ceiling. "Don't want to be dropping off with a light like that. You'll light yourself up if you got into anything flammable down there. Heard about this guy did that once . . . Hey! You just tired or out hard?"

She looked closer, to see if he was still breathing all right at least.

"I do not want to go down there." she said. "Something that can make you puke plus puke itself can really make you puke. Come on, at least wake up enough to get to a shower or a bunk . . . and do not puke on me. I'm dirty enough."