Twin Regrets Ch3
Jun. 15th, 2005 08:21 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jebbypalRated T. Farscape/Firefly Crossover.
See the first part for disclaimers.
Chapter 3: Dear Dad –
Chinese Glossary
Hundan - bastard
As I click on the voice recorder, I wonder how the other John will take it when he discovers that I swiped this as well. What I wouldn't give to be a fly on that wall.
"Hi, Dad, it's me again. Ya know, I realize how weird it is to record these messages to you when it looks like I've managed to get myself somewhere into the future. Yeah, that's right; one of these wormhole trips seems to have put me about 500 years ahead of you. Oh, and no big surprise, but Earth is apparently long gone. Instead, there's a whole system of terraformed worlds now. No aliens or at least none that I've met. Haven't really asked if there are some other forms of life living happily elsewhere since I'm trying not to draw attention to myself this time around.
"Trying anyways. Ya know, it's weird, but other than space travel and terraforming, it doesn't look like there's been a ton of progress since our day. Definitely no form of enlightenment reached by governmental figures or anything like Star Trek would have you believe.
"No, instead I managed to land on a planet that would be better suited to the talents of Wyatt Earp or Billy the Kid. The Kid would probably fit in a lot better. Wyatt might get himself lynched.
"I didn't particularly want to land, but the module only has so much fuel. I could detect a settlement and water on a nearby moon (Yeah, they're even giving moons atmosphere nowadays), so I set Farscape-One down several klicks away from anything important and removed all the most important bits of machinery from my baby. Tucked the parts away with my weapons and buried the lot of them. Then went further and buried all but two pieces of the currency I borrowed from Rygel. One thing about the Uncharted Territories, they certainly taught me to always prepare for the worst.
"And it turns out to be a very good thing too. This settlement, Whitefall, is run by a woman named Patience. I know, how Old West can you get? I keep expecting to see John Wayne around every corner in a ten-gallon hat. Anyway, Patience is a greedy, grubby old woman and that's about the nicest thing I can say about her. Some of her boys ran across me after I'd hiked across 5 miles or so of dry, cold, deserted moon. Even though we do speak the same language, I only barely managed to not get shot.
"Once we reached the main settlement, they handed me over to Patience. Ya know, I've met Tavloids with better hygiene…"
I click off the recorder when I hear someone rap on the door. It's necessary to keep everything important hidden, or on my person at all times if I don't want it to grow legs and walk off. My negotiations with Patience had nearly cost me the very coat on my back. As it was, I lost all the supplies that I wasn't actually wearing. Thankfully, I'd chosen to leave Wynona behind with the rest of the weapons.
In return, she benevolently found me a job to provide me with enough money to pay for a room and food. I'd be more grateful if the job didn't involve mining in the most dangerous hole in the ground I've ever seen. I'm guessing that Patience doesn't have much tolerance for the notion of unions. And the camp, most of the inhabitants of this cheerful little place smell worse than that Budong corpse Chiana took us to that time we were starving to death.
Despite my best efforts, I've been stuck on this moon for over a month. No one owns any means for transportation off-world and the few supply ships that have been through charge a small fortune for passage. Thanks to the prices at the company store, I'll have to live another five hundred years to amass the fee.
"Crichton, stop gathering wool. Patience wants to see you," a voice shouts. Gotta stop spacing out like that. It's bad enough when I'm mining and Harvey starts arguing with me about getting off this forsaken moon. I'm lucky I haven't managed to cut my foot off yet.
I'm surprised to see Patience in the street with several of her boys and some horses. My gut churns as I hope they haven't located my module. She's sent several parties out to look for it under the guise of maybe having the parts to repair it. But since I gave her the wrong direction and shortened the distance a bit, no one's found it yet.
"You wear an empty holster, Crichton. Could you shoot a man if you had something to put in it?" she asks.
I refrain from giving her any of the answers I'd like to. "I have before. Reckon I can again. Any reason in particular that I should?"
She smirks as she answers, "Always with the questions. One of these days, you'll learn that those aren't good for your well-being, boy." I stay quiet as I wait. She sure as hell doesn't pay enough for me to even consider killing for her. "Reckon you deserve to know. Certain individuals have decided that not only can they bring supplies on-planet without going through me, but that they can deal with that Browncoat hundan, Reynolds. I aim to correct 'em of both notions."
Reynolds? It would be too much good luck for it to actually be the Malcolm Reynolds that the girl, River, told me to find. Still, one way or another, it might be a way off this place and away from Patience's decidedly controlling grip.
"Sounds fine. When do we head out?" I say with enthusiasm.
"You'll ride out now with Jed. Do exactly what he says," she orders.
My ass and other parts of my anatomy are planning their revenge on Patience right now. I haven't ridden a horse since some time in middle school. I manage to keep up with Jed, but just barely. Along the way, I get to confirm that this is indeed Malcolm Reynolds of the ship, Serenity, as well as hear an earful about Patience's little feud. Apparently she frowns on anyone discussing her last embarrassment at his hands, so it's no surprise I haven't heard till now.
I also find out why I'm going with Jed. Not for any prowess with guns, but rather to just watch his back. Seems one of Serenity's crew got the drop on the last sniper so I'm the insurance that Patience's little ambush goes off without a hitch. Or so she thinks.
We pass an uneventful hour or so after we arrive at Jed's preferred position for his blind. All very boring with him keeping an eye on the reported meeting spot below us while I keep an eye on everything else.
I have Aeryn to thank for the fact that I even see the man coming through the sparse scrub cover. He's good, but he's certainly not a Peacekeeper commando. He's still too far away to take either of us out silently, so I toss the rock I'd palmed earlier directly at Jed's head. From the way he slumps, I can tell he's out cold. I'd like to check, but figure it's much more important to survive the confrontation with the armed man rapidly approaching.
He's quite confused to see my weapon on the ground in front of me as well as my hands in the air. "I knocked him out for you. I think he's still alive," I offer.
He stays silent as he retrieves Jed's rifle. "What are you trying to pull?" he asks finally.
"Look, all I want is passage off this moon. Whatever beef you and yours have with Patience, I don't care. I just want to get the hell out of here," I reply.
"Patience? What in the rutting hell does she have to do with this?"
Oh, they didn't expect her. "She heard that Malcolm Reynolds was dropping some stuff off today. For some reason, that bothered her more than the fact she wasn't getting her cut. I'm not really sure, I haven't been here that long."
The man looks between me and Jed with a pained look on his face. "Mal, you getting all this? You've got ornery company heading in fast." He pauses for a while. Receiving instructions, I presume.
Ta ma duh! Zoe tried to tell 'im, but would he listen? Hell no. Had to go and see if he could sneak one in under Patience's nose. In Jayne's opinion, the captain had been spoiling for a fight with that woman ever since she double-crossed him again. Then there was his anger at being shot by her yet again.
And here it was, the old bat had found out what was going down and thought she'd try to kill two idiots in one ambush. Only one question left, was this weirdo in on her plan to set them up for something worse than just a bullet in the head? Jayne smirked as he heard Mal ask Zoe the exact same question a second after he got the news.
"How many is she bringing?" Jayne asked. Man is definitely missing a few screws, he ain't even paying attention to the person holding a gun on him. Jayne growled with impatience to get the turncoat's attention.
"If she just brings who she had assembled when Jed and I left, about five. But I don't know for sure," the man replied.
Jayne quickly grabbed his earpiece to turn the volume down when Mal starts cussing upon hearing the news. Six they can handle, more than that and they should either give up on the deal or hope like hell that the buyer will fight with them. "What direction are they coming from?"
"Look, I don't know. She didn't spell out her plan. She just asked if I could kill a man and then told me to go. I went on the chance that I might be able to get the frell off this rock! If the answer is no, then go ahead and shoot me already."
The fella sure was excitable. And what kind of word was "frell"? If this was a plan of Patience's, then he must know he would die if he failed. Otherwise, he wouldn’t take the risk of posing the option. Or maybe it wasn't an act. Jayne looked down at the prone body of the man's comrade. Pulling his knife, he started toward the body while keeping the gun up.
Nerves of steel that one. Jayne couldn't tell one way or another what his reaction would be until the guy finally leaped at him. He stopped as soon as Jayne pulled the gun back up while giving him a dirty look.
"Look, there's no need to kill him. He's innocent in all this," the man argued
Interesting.
"Innocent except for your boss's plan to ambush and kill us all. And he was to be the sniper that thinned the herd," Jayne pointed out while watching the man's face closely. Killing for the sake of killing didn't seem to set well with the guy for some reason, which probably meant that he was telling the truth. "Yeah Mal, I think he's for real. What's the plan?" Jayne asked as he lowered the gun. Hopefully this fella was a little saner than the last bunch of stowaways they got saddled with.
The plan was pretty simple. Mal and Zoe would try to ride and intercept the buyers while Jayne and the new guy buried the goods. And Shepherd Book would watch over the unconscious prisoner until they were done. If things went smooth, Patience would get to hear exactly how Malcolm Reynolds and his crew had put another one over on her from the mouth of her own sniper. Jayne liked the plan. He didn't like how talkative the new guy was.
"Come on, I told you my name, John Crichton. It's not so hard to reciprocate, is it?"
Jayne snorted as he continued to dig. "My mama didn't raise no fool. I might not have a lot of schoolin', but I've lived around enough pilots to know that there's no way that that's your name."
"John" chose that moment to climb out of the pit to start carrying boxes so Jayne didn't get a chance to see how he reacted to having his bluff called. "Sorry, that's just what I usually go by. Full name is John Crichton Car," John said.
"Hmph, knew it. Jayne Cobb. Good of you to keep us from getting killed."
"Jayne?"
Jayne glared hard at him. "Something wrong with your hearing? That's what I said."
John just nodded. "Good to meet you, Jayne. And thanks for not shooting me."
Jayne dropped the last box in the hole. Rutting hell, they still had to fill the hole up. Gorammit, why did he always get the dirty jobs?
My time with Jayne was…interesting to say the least. If he'd been the first person I met in this part of the universe, I'd swear that the wormhole had transported me to the Planet of the Apes. He turned out to be a lot more perceptive than I'd judged though. Something that you'd think I'd be cured of by now after dealing with the Hynerian with the heart of gold.
Regardless, by the time we finish burying whatever his crew had smuggled to the planet, he isn't happy to hear that I want to take a detour to dig more things up. "Look, I'll make it worth your while. I get to dig my stuff up and there might be some parts from my ship that you all can use," I argue.
From the way that Jayne grimaces, I gather that his communicator is still working. His opinion is definitely being overruled.
"Fine, but we'll have to be fast. Won't take Patience too long to locate Serenity if she has even half decent radar."
I just nod and get back on the "mule". It's odd the kind of names they've come up with for something as innocuous as a four-wheeler. The trip is just as boring as my initial walk toward civilization after I landed. There's not much that can be said for Whitefall's scenery except that it's even more boring than the so-called "fly-over" states of the Midwest. Of the Midwest-That-Was, I correct myself with more than a twinge of loss.
I'm eager for the distraction of manual labor when we arrive at the module. The wind has blown away most of the brush I'd used to camouflage the small ship while covering it with the moon's loose soil. It's almost stuck in a sand dune after being left alone for over a month. Jayne says to get on with finding my stuff as he works at reclaiming the module from the sand. Tells me that there's no reason to give Kaylee any opportunity to linger over the machine if they want to leave before Patience catches scent of Serenity.
I carefully count out the steps to my hiding spot and start digging. I've recovered one bag and am starting on the second when we hear a ship's engines. I pause to watch as the transport ship, a Firefly, lands nearby. I can't help but be disappointed at what I see. It's nowhere near as beautiful as a leviathan and looks downright clunky compared to Peacekeeper technology. It almost reminds me of a Sheyang junker. Yet here and now, it's capable of a lot more than the IASA space shuttles that I'm most familiar with. I quickly return to my task though; Jayne has given me reason to believe that his boss is the impatient sort and I'd really like to avoid starting off on the wrong foot with this crew. I almost laugh out loud as I realize that at least I don't have to worry about a Luxan tongue-ing me unconscious. Hopefully no one will greet me by spitting on me either.
I don't bother to recover the more alien pieces of technology that I've already stripped off the module. I doubt that this crew could find a use for them, and they'd only raise more questions about my origins.
"This him?" a tall man wearing a brown duster asks. This whole melding of the Old West with science fiction almost gives me a headache. It's odd to see that the man is wearing suspenders along with an old fashioned, low-slung gun belt. It's in easy reach of his hands though. I wonder if criminals stage duels at dawn anymore.
"Yeah, Mal. Name's John Crichton Car," Jayne answers. "Kaylee oughta be able to get at his ship now."
"Anything she needs to know?" Mal asks me.
I shake my head. "Nah, she's completely dry. If you have tools, I can lend a hand," I offer.
A dangerous black woman wearing leather vest over her shirt walks down Serenity's cargo ramp with a younger brunette wearing coveralls. I immediately tense when I see that the leather clad woman is holding a sawed off shotgun at the ready, but I stop my hands from reaching for my borrowed gun.
"Wow, an antique? You actually got her space worthy?" the brunette asks with real enthusiasm as she runs toward the module.
"Make it quick, Kaylee. We ain't got all day," Mal orders before turning to the other woman. "Zoe?"
"Wash says it's all clear," she says.
"Jayne, stow the mule and Mr. Car's belongings. Let's hurry, people," Mal states as he turns to examine the horizon.
"We get paid?" Jayne asks as he picks up my bags roughly. Mal just nods.
Kaylee smiles at me as I go to help her cannibalize my module. It's a very bittersweet moment and I really want to ask if they can't find space for it in their cargo bay. I hold my tongue though; the Farscape One has always been a short-range craft. If I held onto it this time, it would be too tempting to try to return to…I wonder whether I'd try to return to Earth or the Uncharted Territories. Either way, it would be a distraction. For better or worse, this will be my life now. And if I change my mind, I suppose I can always rebuild it from scratch.
My heart isn't in the light-hearted banter with Kaylee and soon she stops trying to draw me into conversation. She watches with sympathy as my hands caress the ship before removing parts. She's a mechanic. She understands the pain of disassembling something you've spilt blood to build and maintain.
We quickly finish the job and the others move to help us carry in the spare parts. Leaving the module behind hurts as much as leaving Moya. More than anything, it's been my constant companion for these past three years, my fortress of solitude when the aliens became too much, and the one thing over which I had sole control. Harvey and Scorpy may have managed to take Zhaan from me, forced me to become a killer, but the module always reminded me of who I started out as. But it's also a symbol of all the memories that John and I shared and of where our paths diverged. It's almost fitting to leave it behind with everything else I've lost.
"You'd have been surprised to see what we accomplished, D.K.," I whisper to my childhood friend and the co-creator of the Farscape One. He's now long dead, but I wonder if he ever had any clue to what he'd really been a part of. Most likely, I'll never know.
Again, TBC shortly. And I apologize if these seem short...each chapter is over 5 pages though..and this one was 3000 words by itself. *shakes head*
Chapter 4
See the first part for disclaimers.
Chapter 3: Dear Dad –
Chinese Glossary
Hundan - bastard
As I click on the voice recorder, I wonder how the other John will take it when he discovers that I swiped this as well. What I wouldn't give to be a fly on that wall.
"Hi, Dad, it's me again. Ya know, I realize how weird it is to record these messages to you when it looks like I've managed to get myself somewhere into the future. Yeah, that's right; one of these wormhole trips seems to have put me about 500 years ahead of you. Oh, and no big surprise, but Earth is apparently long gone. Instead, there's a whole system of terraformed worlds now. No aliens or at least none that I've met. Haven't really asked if there are some other forms of life living happily elsewhere since I'm trying not to draw attention to myself this time around.
"Trying anyways. Ya know, it's weird, but other than space travel and terraforming, it doesn't look like there's been a ton of progress since our day. Definitely no form of enlightenment reached by governmental figures or anything like Star Trek would have you believe.
"No, instead I managed to land on a planet that would be better suited to the talents of Wyatt Earp or Billy the Kid. The Kid would probably fit in a lot better. Wyatt might get himself lynched.
"I didn't particularly want to land, but the module only has so much fuel. I could detect a settlement and water on a nearby moon (Yeah, they're even giving moons atmosphere nowadays), so I set Farscape-One down several klicks away from anything important and removed all the most important bits of machinery from my baby. Tucked the parts away with my weapons and buried the lot of them. Then went further and buried all but two pieces of the currency I borrowed from Rygel. One thing about the Uncharted Territories, they certainly taught me to always prepare for the worst.
"And it turns out to be a very good thing too. This settlement, Whitefall, is run by a woman named Patience. I know, how Old West can you get? I keep expecting to see John Wayne around every corner in a ten-gallon hat. Anyway, Patience is a greedy, grubby old woman and that's about the nicest thing I can say about her. Some of her boys ran across me after I'd hiked across 5 miles or so of dry, cold, deserted moon. Even though we do speak the same language, I only barely managed to not get shot.
"Once we reached the main settlement, they handed me over to Patience. Ya know, I've met Tavloids with better hygiene…"
I click off the recorder when I hear someone rap on the door. It's necessary to keep everything important hidden, or on my person at all times if I don't want it to grow legs and walk off. My negotiations with Patience had nearly cost me the very coat on my back. As it was, I lost all the supplies that I wasn't actually wearing. Thankfully, I'd chosen to leave Wynona behind with the rest of the weapons.
In return, she benevolently found me a job to provide me with enough money to pay for a room and food. I'd be more grateful if the job didn't involve mining in the most dangerous hole in the ground I've ever seen. I'm guessing that Patience doesn't have much tolerance for the notion of unions. And the camp, most of the inhabitants of this cheerful little place smell worse than that Budong corpse Chiana took us to that time we were starving to death.
Despite my best efforts, I've been stuck on this moon for over a month. No one owns any means for transportation off-world and the few supply ships that have been through charge a small fortune for passage. Thanks to the prices at the company store, I'll have to live another five hundred years to amass the fee.
"Crichton, stop gathering wool. Patience wants to see you," a voice shouts. Gotta stop spacing out like that. It's bad enough when I'm mining and Harvey starts arguing with me about getting off this forsaken moon. I'm lucky I haven't managed to cut my foot off yet.
I'm surprised to see Patience in the street with several of her boys and some horses. My gut churns as I hope they haven't located my module. She's sent several parties out to look for it under the guise of maybe having the parts to repair it. But since I gave her the wrong direction and shortened the distance a bit, no one's found it yet.
"You wear an empty holster, Crichton. Could you shoot a man if you had something to put in it?" she asks.
I refrain from giving her any of the answers I'd like to. "I have before. Reckon I can again. Any reason in particular that I should?"
She smirks as she answers, "Always with the questions. One of these days, you'll learn that those aren't good for your well-being, boy." I stay quiet as I wait. She sure as hell doesn't pay enough for me to even consider killing for her. "Reckon you deserve to know. Certain individuals have decided that not only can they bring supplies on-planet without going through me, but that they can deal with that Browncoat hundan, Reynolds. I aim to correct 'em of both notions."
Reynolds? It would be too much good luck for it to actually be the Malcolm Reynolds that the girl, River, told me to find. Still, one way or another, it might be a way off this place and away from Patience's decidedly controlling grip.
"Sounds fine. When do we head out?" I say with enthusiasm.
"You'll ride out now with Jed. Do exactly what he says," she orders.
My ass and other parts of my anatomy are planning their revenge on Patience right now. I haven't ridden a horse since some time in middle school. I manage to keep up with Jed, but just barely. Along the way, I get to confirm that this is indeed Malcolm Reynolds of the ship, Serenity, as well as hear an earful about Patience's little feud. Apparently she frowns on anyone discussing her last embarrassment at his hands, so it's no surprise I haven't heard till now.
I also find out why I'm going with Jed. Not for any prowess with guns, but rather to just watch his back. Seems one of Serenity's crew got the drop on the last sniper so I'm the insurance that Patience's little ambush goes off without a hitch. Or so she thinks.
We pass an uneventful hour or so after we arrive at Jed's preferred position for his blind. All very boring with him keeping an eye on the reported meeting spot below us while I keep an eye on everything else.
I have Aeryn to thank for the fact that I even see the man coming through the sparse scrub cover. He's good, but he's certainly not a Peacekeeper commando. He's still too far away to take either of us out silently, so I toss the rock I'd palmed earlier directly at Jed's head. From the way he slumps, I can tell he's out cold. I'd like to check, but figure it's much more important to survive the confrontation with the armed man rapidly approaching.
He's quite confused to see my weapon on the ground in front of me as well as my hands in the air. "I knocked him out for you. I think he's still alive," I offer.
He stays silent as he retrieves Jed's rifle. "What are you trying to pull?" he asks finally.
"Look, all I want is passage off this moon. Whatever beef you and yours have with Patience, I don't care. I just want to get the hell out of here," I reply.
"Patience? What in the rutting hell does she have to do with this?"
Oh, they didn't expect her. "She heard that Malcolm Reynolds was dropping some stuff off today. For some reason, that bothered her more than the fact she wasn't getting her cut. I'm not really sure, I haven't been here that long."
The man looks between me and Jed with a pained look on his face. "Mal, you getting all this? You've got ornery company heading in fast." He pauses for a while. Receiving instructions, I presume.
Ta ma duh! Zoe tried to tell 'im, but would he listen? Hell no. Had to go and see if he could sneak one in under Patience's nose. In Jayne's opinion, the captain had been spoiling for a fight with that woman ever since she double-crossed him again. Then there was his anger at being shot by her yet again.
And here it was, the old bat had found out what was going down and thought she'd try to kill two idiots in one ambush. Only one question left, was this weirdo in on her plan to set them up for something worse than just a bullet in the head? Jayne smirked as he heard Mal ask Zoe the exact same question a second after he got the news.
"How many is she bringing?" Jayne asked. Man is definitely missing a few screws, he ain't even paying attention to the person holding a gun on him. Jayne growled with impatience to get the turncoat's attention.
"If she just brings who she had assembled when Jed and I left, about five. But I don't know for sure," the man replied.
Jayne quickly grabbed his earpiece to turn the volume down when Mal starts cussing upon hearing the news. Six they can handle, more than that and they should either give up on the deal or hope like hell that the buyer will fight with them. "What direction are they coming from?"
"Look, I don't know. She didn't spell out her plan. She just asked if I could kill a man and then told me to go. I went on the chance that I might be able to get the frell off this rock! If the answer is no, then go ahead and shoot me already."
The fella sure was excitable. And what kind of word was "frell"? If this was a plan of Patience's, then he must know he would die if he failed. Otherwise, he wouldn’t take the risk of posing the option. Or maybe it wasn't an act. Jayne looked down at the prone body of the man's comrade. Pulling his knife, he started toward the body while keeping the gun up.
Nerves of steel that one. Jayne couldn't tell one way or another what his reaction would be until the guy finally leaped at him. He stopped as soon as Jayne pulled the gun back up while giving him a dirty look.
"Look, there's no need to kill him. He's innocent in all this," the man argued
Interesting.
"Innocent except for your boss's plan to ambush and kill us all. And he was to be the sniper that thinned the herd," Jayne pointed out while watching the man's face closely. Killing for the sake of killing didn't seem to set well with the guy for some reason, which probably meant that he was telling the truth. "Yeah Mal, I think he's for real. What's the plan?" Jayne asked as he lowered the gun. Hopefully this fella was a little saner than the last bunch of stowaways they got saddled with.
The plan was pretty simple. Mal and Zoe would try to ride and intercept the buyers while Jayne and the new guy buried the goods. And Shepherd Book would watch over the unconscious prisoner until they were done. If things went smooth, Patience would get to hear exactly how Malcolm Reynolds and his crew had put another one over on her from the mouth of her own sniper. Jayne liked the plan. He didn't like how talkative the new guy was.
"Come on, I told you my name, John Crichton. It's not so hard to reciprocate, is it?"
Jayne snorted as he continued to dig. "My mama didn't raise no fool. I might not have a lot of schoolin', but I've lived around enough pilots to know that there's no way that that's your name."
"John" chose that moment to climb out of the pit to start carrying boxes so Jayne didn't get a chance to see how he reacted to having his bluff called. "Sorry, that's just what I usually go by. Full name is John Crichton Car," John said.
"Hmph, knew it. Jayne Cobb. Good of you to keep us from getting killed."
"Jayne?"
Jayne glared hard at him. "Something wrong with your hearing? That's what I said."
John just nodded. "Good to meet you, Jayne. And thanks for not shooting me."
Jayne dropped the last box in the hole. Rutting hell, they still had to fill the hole up. Gorammit, why did he always get the dirty jobs?
My time with Jayne was…interesting to say the least. If he'd been the first person I met in this part of the universe, I'd swear that the wormhole had transported me to the Planet of the Apes. He turned out to be a lot more perceptive than I'd judged though. Something that you'd think I'd be cured of by now after dealing with the Hynerian with the heart of gold.
Regardless, by the time we finish burying whatever his crew had smuggled to the planet, he isn't happy to hear that I want to take a detour to dig more things up. "Look, I'll make it worth your while. I get to dig my stuff up and there might be some parts from my ship that you all can use," I argue.
From the way that Jayne grimaces, I gather that his communicator is still working. His opinion is definitely being overruled.
"Fine, but we'll have to be fast. Won't take Patience too long to locate Serenity if she has even half decent radar."
I just nod and get back on the "mule". It's odd the kind of names they've come up with for something as innocuous as a four-wheeler. The trip is just as boring as my initial walk toward civilization after I landed. There's not much that can be said for Whitefall's scenery except that it's even more boring than the so-called "fly-over" states of the Midwest. Of the Midwest-That-Was, I correct myself with more than a twinge of loss.
I'm eager for the distraction of manual labor when we arrive at the module. The wind has blown away most of the brush I'd used to camouflage the small ship while covering it with the moon's loose soil. It's almost stuck in a sand dune after being left alone for over a month. Jayne says to get on with finding my stuff as he works at reclaiming the module from the sand. Tells me that there's no reason to give Kaylee any opportunity to linger over the machine if they want to leave before Patience catches scent of Serenity.
I carefully count out the steps to my hiding spot and start digging. I've recovered one bag and am starting on the second when we hear a ship's engines. I pause to watch as the transport ship, a Firefly, lands nearby. I can't help but be disappointed at what I see. It's nowhere near as beautiful as a leviathan and looks downright clunky compared to Peacekeeper technology. It almost reminds me of a Sheyang junker. Yet here and now, it's capable of a lot more than the IASA space shuttles that I'm most familiar with. I quickly return to my task though; Jayne has given me reason to believe that his boss is the impatient sort and I'd really like to avoid starting off on the wrong foot with this crew. I almost laugh out loud as I realize that at least I don't have to worry about a Luxan tongue-ing me unconscious. Hopefully no one will greet me by spitting on me either.
I don't bother to recover the more alien pieces of technology that I've already stripped off the module. I doubt that this crew could find a use for them, and they'd only raise more questions about my origins.
"This him?" a tall man wearing a brown duster asks. This whole melding of the Old West with science fiction almost gives me a headache. It's odd to see that the man is wearing suspenders along with an old fashioned, low-slung gun belt. It's in easy reach of his hands though. I wonder if criminals stage duels at dawn anymore.
"Yeah, Mal. Name's John Crichton Car," Jayne answers. "Kaylee oughta be able to get at his ship now."
"Anything she needs to know?" Mal asks me.
I shake my head. "Nah, she's completely dry. If you have tools, I can lend a hand," I offer.
A dangerous black woman wearing leather vest over her shirt walks down Serenity's cargo ramp with a younger brunette wearing coveralls. I immediately tense when I see that the leather clad woman is holding a sawed off shotgun at the ready, but I stop my hands from reaching for my borrowed gun.
"Wow, an antique? You actually got her space worthy?" the brunette asks with real enthusiasm as she runs toward the module.
"Make it quick, Kaylee. We ain't got all day," Mal orders before turning to the other woman. "Zoe?"
"Wash says it's all clear," she says.
"Jayne, stow the mule and Mr. Car's belongings. Let's hurry, people," Mal states as he turns to examine the horizon.
"We get paid?" Jayne asks as he picks up my bags roughly. Mal just nods.
Kaylee smiles at me as I go to help her cannibalize my module. It's a very bittersweet moment and I really want to ask if they can't find space for it in their cargo bay. I hold my tongue though; the Farscape One has always been a short-range craft. If I held onto it this time, it would be too tempting to try to return to…I wonder whether I'd try to return to Earth or the Uncharted Territories. Either way, it would be a distraction. For better or worse, this will be my life now. And if I change my mind, I suppose I can always rebuild it from scratch.
My heart isn't in the light-hearted banter with Kaylee and soon she stops trying to draw me into conversation. She watches with sympathy as my hands caress the ship before removing parts. She's a mechanic. She understands the pain of disassembling something you've spilt blood to build and maintain.
We quickly finish the job and the others move to help us carry in the spare parts. Leaving the module behind hurts as much as leaving Moya. More than anything, it's been my constant companion for these past three years, my fortress of solitude when the aliens became too much, and the one thing over which I had sole control. Harvey and Scorpy may have managed to take Zhaan from me, forced me to become a killer, but the module always reminded me of who I started out as. But it's also a symbol of all the memories that John and I shared and of where our paths diverged. It's almost fitting to leave it behind with everything else I've lost.
"You'd have been surprised to see what we accomplished, D.K.," I whisper to my childhood friend and the co-creator of the Farscape One. He's now long dead, but I wonder if he ever had any clue to what he'd really been a part of. Most likely, I'll never know.
Again, TBC shortly. And I apologize if these seem short...each chapter is over 5 pages though..and this one was 3000 words by itself. *shakes head*
Chapter 4
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Date: 2005-06-15 07:42 am (UTC)*fanboys you* :)
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Date: 2005-06-15 09:49 am (UTC)One nitpick: Sorry, that's just what I usually go buy.
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Date: 2005-06-16 05:36 am (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2005-07-31 01:34 pm (UTC)And yeah, taking me for freaking ever to read each one, blame it on the customers and having to share computer time with my co-worker. The price I pay for computer play time when working with him is he gets some too...LOL
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