Those Cast Aside Prose in The 'Verse | World Anvil

Those Cast Aside

Year: 2518

Four years from now

 
“But it ain't all buttons and charts, Little Albatross. You know what the first rule of flying is? Well, I suppose you do, since you already know what I'm about to say.”   “I do. But I like to hear you say it.”   Mal looks out at the rain on his windows, at his screens, taking her up. “Love. You can learn all the math in the 'Verse, but you take a boat in the air you don't love, she'll shake you off just as sure as the turning of worlds. Love keeps her in the air when she oughta fall down, tells you she's hurting 'fore she keens. Makes her a home.”   River also looks out at the sky. “Storm's getting worse.”   “We'll pass through it soon enough.”
 

Year: 2506, May

Eight years ago

Somewhere near the planet Shenzhou, Blue Sun system

  Captain Nathan hobbled onto the bridge. "Whatta we got, Squish?"   "Definitely solid, Nate," said Squish using the captain's preferred address. He leaned on his skinny elbow, scanning the readout as it scrolled by. His other hand rested idly on the ship's yoke. "Metallic. This is definitely where that weird beacon signal was coming from until we lost it a few days ago. Um... looks like an escape pod. No...yeah, scratch that. An escape shuttle."   "End-/Ex-?"   "What do we have?" interrupted a voice from the door. Hesam poked his grinning head it. His greasy hand was wiping down a greasy tool with a greasy cloth.   "Endo/Exo-Atmospheric Shuttle," beamed Squish. He scrolled over the readouts filling the screen as he were a kid looking at a toy list.   "Really? What kind?"   "Looks like... K64. Ought-Three."   "That's a short range shuttle. What's it doing all the gorram way out here?"   "Watch your mouth," grumbled Nate. He rubbed at the metallic mass that was supposed to be his leg. Hadn't had a good oiling in a long time. But he was as frugal as he was principled. Spare parts and his crew's well-being—even their moral well-being, at times—took precedence.   Hesam flinched. "Sorry, sir."   "Maybe they got lost out here? Had a malfunction of some sort?" Squish shrugged. "Dunno. All that matters is if it got parts."   Hesam pointed the tool toward the shuttle through the cockpit window. "What about whomever is inside?"   Squish made a counter-gesture at his readouts. "Probably not going to be a problem."   "Nate..." Hesam turned to the captain. His face was in a twist. His tool continued poking spacewards.   Nathan continued to look out into the same Black with both his good eye and his replacement one, his mechanical leg still frozen in that not-so-oiled way. "We'll check it out. Bring the ship in—" He pointed a finger at Hesam and Squish each before either could open a mouth. "—treat like search and rescue. Figure out what is going on, okay? We respect the living and the dead, should it come to that. We're people first, gentlemen. And we shall not succumb to the sin of greed, y'hear?"   "Yes sir," they said in unison, although Squish's response had a consistency more akin to his namesake.  
. . .
  The three of them stood in front of the airlock in brown spacesuits. Only Squish had his helmet on. Each suit bore the telltale signs of Captain Nathan's frugal pragmatism. Squish was swimming in his suit. Nate's was modified for his artificial bits. And Hesam's seemed to strain in places to account for his size and bulk as he stooped over the pressure gage.   "What if it's a trap?" Squish gripped the pulse-rifle close to him.   "It's not a trap," muttered Hesam. "There's a war on."   "So?"   "So? So, every gorram—"   "Blasphemy, Mr. Rastkar." Nate's tone was as calm as the slow turning of worlds, and felt just as solid. "Let slip again and I shall have to dock you—one day's pay."   "Sorry, sir." He cast a glare at the snickering leaking out of Squish's suit. "As I was about to say... Everyone is fighting. No time for piracy."   "Perfect time, you ask me. No law nowhere."   "Nobody did ask you."   "Alright." Nate's firm word ended the debate. He leaned on his good leg and let out a bit of a noise his crew conveniently ignored. "Are we locked and equalized yet, Hesam?"   The engineer held up a gloved hand. His eyes watched the gauge's pulse. He nodded and dropped his arm. "Yes. Now. Locked green, green, gre—" He thumped the last light, which stopped flickering amber. "Green. Locking mechanisms engaged. We're good to go."   With all helmets on, lights shining, the door hissed as the seal between Nate's ship and the shuttle was breached. Whirls of frost-laden air swirled through the cracks and around the trio's feet.   "Looks like atmo is low," said Hesam.   "Did they lose power?" asked Nate as he hobbled on in.   Squish hurried to keep up after him, muttering something under his breath too low to warrant a fine. He held the nonlethal pulse rifle out in front of him like a talisman.   Hesam ambled after, looked at the door control and gave it a flip of his gloved finger. The entrance lights bounced on to full brightness. "Nope."   "That's odd..." Nate sighed. He took a few more tentative steps. Perhaps they were rationing the power in case they were out here for a long time. "Hello? Anyone here? I'm Captain Nathan of the licensed salvage vessel, The Al—" He gasped. "Κύριε, ἐλέησον!"   Squish brought the blaster up and pushed forward, ready for whatever threat had made his captain uncharacteristically curse. He was about to pull the trigger at the dark form when his helmet slipped over his eyes again. Nate threw his arm up, knocking the pulse rifle out of his hands before it went off. He made another quick motion, and caught the rifle's stalk in his palm while Squish struggled to keep upright.   Hesam hurried to them and looked over Nate's shoulder at the dark form. When his eyes finally adjusted, he saw it. The body. "Poor soul."   Nate removed his helmet, ignoring another exasperation from Squish. "Aye. Pour soul indeed. If only she would have waited just a little longer." He stared at her for a moment, then bowed his head.   Hesam continued to stare. But then he caught Nate's solemn gesture out of the corner of his eye and quickly followed suit.   Squish threw up his hands and pulled off his helmet. He tapped his foot at the pair until Nate and then finally Hesam raised their heads. "Okay, then. From money-draining search and rescue to profitable salvage. See? I told you the readouts said it wasn't going to be a problem."   Nate spun on his heals. "You'll keep a respectful tongue in that mouth, Mr. Kaczynski. Understand?"   Squish's mouth gaped like a goldfish out of his bowl. "I— I— Captain, I—"   Nate pointed back out of the shuttle's hatch. "Go get a body-bag, Squish. And while you're at it, find some respect."   Squish hurried out the hatch.   Nate rubbed his face and let out another long sigh. "Hesam?"   "Yessir."   "Go take a look at the engine thruster readouts and find us the ion signature. We're going to trace this shuttle back to its origin."   "If I might ask, sir. Why? They don't launch shuttles unless the primary ship is a complete loss."   "I've got me a bad feeling." He knelt down by the woman. The gun was still in her hand. She was sitting up when she did it. There was a red absence behind her skull. "Power. Atmo. Heat. Turned low, but still enough to last for days. Weeks." He pointed at a red metal box. "Emergency rations. Untouched." His hand swiveled towards the communications station. "We heard the distress signal clear as a Kalidasa sunrise. Then...nothing... Why?"   Hesam shrugged. "Why do crazy people do anything, Cap? She got depressed. She went on one last grand tour. What's to make you have bad feeling?"   Nate moaned as he pushed himself upright again, and he rubbed at his good leg. He glanced at Hesam who made an obvious glance anywhere but at him. While Nate appreciated the gesture, it often felt patronizing when Hesam did things like that. He shook his head and gestured towards the back of the shuttle. "Go get the readings. I'll check the nav logs from the pilot seat."   "Yes, boss."   Nate ambled fore and sat down at the flight controls. He flicked a few switches, testing each one. He was about to reach for the comm switch when he saw it—the optical disc. Curiouser and curiouser, he thought. He picked it up. It was high-quality. Medical grade. Whomever this woman was, she had some good tech at her disposal. Disposal? Nathan shook his head again, the wave of pity and remorse thick in his swallow.   "Got the signature, Nate," Hesam bellowed from the back. "We should be able to trace the ion trails from this. By looks, shouldn't be more than a click or two away."   Nate nodded and pocketed the optical disc. He'd have a look later. Probably a suicide note or... His head snapped up, ear cocked to the side. At least the ears were still perfect. "Squish, you can leave the bag. I'll give her last rites. Go prep the—"   "Can you help my mommy? She won't wake up."   Nathan jumped out of the pilot seat and stood there dumbfounded. Where had she come from? His eyes flicked off to an open closet. A blanket. Some kind of stuffed animal doll. A bottle. An open box of some Fruity Oaty Bars, a few wrappers strewn. The gooey protein-jelly smudged on her left cheek. It was a snapshot image that froze itself permanent onto Nate's mind.   "Κύριε, ἐλέησον!" he said again. It wasn't blasphemy this time either. It was his honest prayer. "Lord, have mercy."  

Year 2514

Now

Eavesdown Docks

  Seth dropped the heavy trunk as much off to the side as could be found. It kicked up dust. He set himself upon it and took out a handkerchief. He was amazed at how a simple two percent higher gravity on Persephone compared to his home world of Ariel made him feel like a feeble old man instead of being in his late thirties. The throngs of folk around the docks felt as heavy on his soul as the gravity. There were plenty of people on Ariel. But Ariel seemed more...organized. Uniform. Civilized. A flock of songbirds, not this swarm of mosquitoes vying for blood.   He wiped his brow with the handkerchief and pulled the ticket from his hand. No, it definitely said Gateway Docks, the spaceport on Persephone for passengers, not... He glanced at a sign half-swinging from its post. Not Eavesdown Docks, which looked more like a trade and steerage hub. What was he doing? Maybe this whole thing was a huge mistake.   "Gosh, Mister. You look real tired."   Seth's head shot up out of his hands. "Oh. Hello there, little girl. Uh..." He chuckled and shook his head a bit. "You could say that."   "How come?"   "I'm from a planet that's a little easier to get around on."   "Really? Where ya headed to now?"   He chuckled again. "How do you know I'm 'headed...somewhere'?"   "Well..." She started ticking off her fingers. "One, that big heavy trunk. An' two, you got a ticket with a transfer on it. But that don't look like the stamp used here."   Seth sighed and waved it at her. "Nope. No, it's not. It most definitely is not." He rubbed his face. "This is Eavesdown Docks, isn't it?"   She nodded her head, keeping her wide eyes on him.   "I'm going to miss my transport to..." His eyes danced over his ticket. "Hera."   She smiled. "You're coming with us!"   It was the smile at his misfortune that struck him. "Come again?"   "Well, you need to be at a place we're goin'. An' you look like yer from the Core but ain't dressed all fancy like, so that means you ain't got much coin an' transport like Orion can cost folk like you lots more than you're gonna wanna part with." She leaned in and put a hand aside her mouth like she was whispering a secret. "Besides, the Brutus is all kindsa smelly an' Leroy spits t'bacco right on the floor."   Seth couldn't help himself smile as wide as hers. "Why, Miss...are you soliciting me to pay you fare to Hera?"   She nodded and smiled right back at him.   "What's your name? Miss..." He leaned in, raising his eyebrows. She reminded him of... no, don't think of her. New start. New start. We won't be able to make a new start if we cling to the things left behind. Best to just cast those thoughts aside. Start fresh with no burdens.   "Jessa!" She stuck out her hand in the best attempt at an adult handshake as she could muster. "You?"   "Seth. Pleased to meet your acquaintance."    

Year: 2506, May

Eight years ago

Somewhere near the planet Shenzhou, Blue Sun system

  The seal between Nate's ship and the main cargo doors of the Firefly hissed at the three, back in their space suits. The doors made painful growls as they opened, half frozen by the cold of space, the war between atmo pressures, and the byproducts of age. When they finally ground to a halt, Captain Nathan, Squish, and Hesam peered into the blackness. Hesam activated bright work-lights, fixed in place for bay excursions such as this one. Sharp shadows leapt at the sudden contrast, but only as figurative tricks of the light.   "What a piece of fèiwù!"   "Day's pay, Squish."   Hesam snickered.   "Hey, you gave him a warning." Squish's bony fingers flipped themselves at Hesam. But a lot of offensive effect was diminished by the flapping of the oversized suit.   Nathan kept his eye locked on the Firefly's cargo bay. He procured a flashlight from a compartment on his artificial leg and shone its amazingly bright light into the corners. He remained focused on his examination as he spoke. "We didn't have an impressionable child on board then."   "Aw, Nate, she's still in the shuttle we got over in the docking bay. She can't hear."   Nate pushed himself forward into through the Firefly's doors. The gravity field capacitors had nearly run out. It wasn't quite weightless in there, but near enough. Nathan preferred the weightlessness. Maybe that's why he became a salvager and plied these most distance reaches of the known 'Verse.   No. Weightlessness was a reason, but not the reason. He shook his head, trying to renew his concentration and not fall into sentimental nostalgia. But the real reason for his current career parked itself there in his mind anyway, because it had become clear to him in the last hours that he would have to go back. And going back meant that he would come face-to-face to that reason. It wasn't out of nostalgia, he tried to convince himself, but because it might have to be the girl's future.   "We should conduct ourselves as if she were, Mr. Kaczynski. It is a matter of personal accountability."   "Not even a bad word," Squish muttered. "Still don't know, what's it doing way out here? Shenzhou is the hòutíng of the 'Verse as it is."   "Probably the same thing we're doing out here," said Hesam. He gave himself a shove and joined his captain in the cargo bay. He half-drifted, half bounced to a control panel.   "Salvage?" Squish entered last, even though he was still supposed to be on pulse rifle duty.   "No, you idiot."   "Who you callin' idiot, moron? This is a salvage ship, an' the Captain's got a salvage license, so we're salvaging."   "I mean they are out here because it's far away from all the fèihuà going on among them stupid enough to fight over it. Plenty a' folk trying to outrun both sides. Give wide berth."   "Or maybe they're pirates!"   "Again with the pirates."   "Qián kǒu!" Nate swiveled around and shined that blaring light upon both of them like the angel Gabriel, but with metal parts. "Gettin' mighty tired of the squawking, gentlemen. And more so of keeping a tally of curse words. I'd rather figure out if the child still has parents. Or at least answers. So you both shut yer yaps or we can just part ways right now and here, dohn la ma?" The red LED light taking the place of his left eye flashed its righteous judgement upon them.   Squish and Hesam simply nodded and went about their work. The large engineer strained in his suit, and the skinny pilot swam in his. Eventually, there was a bit more light. Then the hum of reserve air tanks. Then heat. Then Hesam pushed up the gravity gradually to keep everyone's already fragile dignity from cracking at the feast of oddity that floated around them.   Squish pointed at the deck once everything had restored. "What's that?"   Hesam looked over. He wrinkled his nose. "Oh, just step around it. I think something must've been living in here."   "Naw," Squish continued to point. "I meant — what's that?"   Hesam looked closer at the part laying on the floor. "Oh, hey. Looks like a catalyzer."   Squish frowned. "Aw, that's a nothing part. I was hoping it was a compression coil. Now those are valuable. Maybe there's some we can strip down in the engine room."   Hesam blinked mightily at him and took off his helmet. "Strip dow— Strip down? Okay. So it won't win any beauty contests, that's true enough. But it's solid. Ship like this, be with you until the day you die."   Squish sniveled. "That's 'cuz it's a gorram deathtrap. Fireflys are a dime a dozen. Boring things. Reason those Brownshirts use them is because they're so ruttin' cheap. They're gonna lose, you mark my words." He jabbed his fingers at Hesam. "Ship like this, better you just cast aside. Cut yer losses, I say. And leave the rest behind."   By this time, Nathan had hobbled over and glanced down before looking Squish squarely in the eye. He made a sweeping motion around the dim expanse. His words bit worse than all the cold black gathered at the end of the universe. His other hand gripped at the loose suit. "We don't cast anything aside... There's a difference between being cast aside and being left behind." He pointed at his artificial eye, which blazed deeper than the Red Sun. "It takes a special eye to see the value in things cast aside. Find beauty where folk don't seem to wanna look. They see something cast aside, and they just keep going cuz they don't see no value. They reckon it must be broke beyond repair. Not us. Now maybe it ain't up to us to always fix broke things. But it is our duty to point out second chances to thems that can. And that's exactly what I plan to do, gentlemen."   Squish looked down, sheepishly.   Hesam spoke with slow caution. He swallowed and nodded at the captain. "Could...bring it to Deadwood. Might be a seller there who might be interested. If I can get her running. She looks pretty tore up somehow, all painted in red splotches and spinning those slow somersaults."   Nate realized his breath was labored. He looked down at his hand, then back up to Squish's head. He loosed his grip slowly, then smoothed out the wrinkles he caused. He eyed the suit, thankful that he hadn't torn it. Gorram it, he thought. She always told me my sin was wrath.   Captain Nathan took a step back. He trained his eyes again on the floor. But they went quickly from the random catalyzer to the first spot. The one that looked like evidence of something living or maybe dying there. He adjusted a release on his artificial leg and bent down. He took off his gloved hand and poked at the spot. Blood. Human blood. "Someone was shot. Bled on the deck. Must have dropped this..."   Hesam lumbered over and stooped down. "Catalyzer," he finished.   Squish brought his gun up again and spun around at the corners. "If that's so, where's the body?"   Hesam lurched back up and likewise looked around. Nathan took his time, but his eyes also ran once more along the borders of the cargo bay, looking for something he might have missed. The artificial one looking for things like heat signatures and substance anomalies while the real one looked for details.   "Alright boys," said Nate, moving his hands like he was fluffing sheep back into passivity. "Easy. Just cuz there was something here don't mean there is now. There wasn't any air re-circulation or heat on this boat when we found her. Likely everyone took the shuttles out."   "You mean that brainblown we found?" Squish took off his helmet and flipped it back on its suit attachment. "Because it takes a lot more than just a person or two to pilot one of these things. Believe you, me."   Hesam just nodded in agreement for once at Squish's comment.   Nate rubbed his chin. The frown was deep. He rubbed at his leg and then took off his own helmet. "Alright. We'll take it nice and slow. We'll see what's aft, then make our way to engineering, and then the bridge."   "You want us to split up?" gasped Squish. He held the rifle close to his chest.   Nate rolled his eye. "What do you think this is, one of those Cortex vampire movies?" He let out a tired sigh. "No need. We can do it in one path. We'll be cautious, but don't expect to look for boogeymen—no gettin' jittery an' start shootin' at shadows, now." With that, Nate started hobbling aftward.   Hesam shrugged at Squish and followed. He decided to pick up a rather large tool and the catalyzer, just in case.   "If they don't come looking for us," Squish mumbled and hurried after.  
. . .
  Squish plopped down in the pilot's seat. He set the pulse rifle down and gave it a scowl. Oh, sure, better to have a concussive blast stun someone on a spaceship rather than risk a bullet piercing the hull or some vital wire bundle or fluid hose. But things were getting really risky out here these days, what with that gorram war and all. Yes, he thought to himself. Gorramit. Gorram, gorram, gorramit all to hell. What was it with Nate giving Hesam so much gorram favoritism? Squish wanted to curse. Of all the places in this gorram 'Verse, this was the place for curses. He shouldn't be penalized for speaking his mind. It was the truth. This ship was a piece of fèiwù. And it was creepy. A pulse rifle was safer and nonlethal, but he would've felt much better with something that killed.   He examined the consoles. They were a mess. Literally and figuratively. Garbled outputs. Cracked screens. Old ones at that. And a lot of residue. Had someone spilled something on here? Maybe some kind of protein drink or faux coffee? It was dark blackish-red. Squish frowned something deep. Looked kinda like sticky dried blood. He glared at the useless pulse rifle again.   "I don't get it," said Hesam behind him. "Where is everyone?"   Nathan hobbled over to the co-pilot's seat and started scanning the logs. After a moment, his fist met one of the flickering screens and he let out a frustrated sigh. "I think the logs are corrupted."   Squish accessed one of his consoles. He frowned. "Not corrupted. But very glitchy. It's like amateurs slapped this thing together using half-broke second-hand parts." His fingers tapped over keyboard. Whatever was on the consoles was certainly between the keys too. Squish had to punch each one hard just to get it to register.   Hesam walked around the bridge, looking closely at every structural seam. "Engineering, empty. The galley, empty. We looked in every crew quarter, aft and fore. Empty. There are signs of activity. Even that protein cake hasn't turned yet. That woman and her child could not have flown this ship alone. Even if she was some kind of genius with eight arms and could be in two or three places at once, it doesn't explain why she jumped into a shuttle. I tell you, either she was nuts or we're missing something, Boss."   Squish's screens flared and their monochromatic readouts flickered between boxy pixels and multichromatic lines of garbage. He banged the side of the console. Whether it helped or not, he felt a little better doing it at least. "Okay. Let's see." Hitting it didn't help after all. Squish rolled his eyes and kept struggling with the keyboard. "Registry number 986-D-425-4BB934Z... Hull number: Gee-eight-two-six—— jiàn tā de guǐ —" Squish fumed at the suddenly dark screen. "...either five-niner or six-eight or—"   "Another day's pay, Kaczynski."   Squish whirled to face Nathan. "Aw, come on, Nate! This is creeping me out! An' Hesam's cussed just as much as I have!"   "Put the sonic rifle down, Squish." Nathan stood from the co-pilot's chair. The captain's face was as stoic as ever, and Squish couldn't read what was wrong. But he heard Hesam suck in a breath.   Squish looked at them, confused. But then his eyes then traveled over to his own hand, which had the pulse rifle in it. His finger was on the trigger. And it was aimed squarely at his captain. He felt the blood drain from his face. "Wǒ de mā! Nate. I'm sorry!" He dropped the rifle, which clattered to the floor.   Nathan let out a long sigh. He shook his head and hobbled over to the man swimming in an old patched up suit that was probably in safety code violation for wear in four of the five solar systems.   Squish flinched when Nate held up his good arm, but he nearly collapsed when the good arm squeezed tight.   "Hey, there, Squish. Just take it easy, alright? Bein' out here in the deepest Black like this? Can turn the strongest of men into what they don't like. Can eat away at 'em. Turn 'em t' sin. Make us less than human."   Squish buried his head into the man's shoulder—the one not half made out of titanium. "You an' Hesam. You guys are like family to me, y'know? I'm sorry. Really, I am. I don't wanna hurt family, now. Y'all took me in. Gave me work. When I thought I was outcast, y'know?"   Nathan nodded. "Cast aside?"   Squish found himself sniffling and wiping tears. "Yeah. Cast aside."   Nathan broke the mask pretending to be his face. "And you know, we don't cast nothin' aside, do we?"   "Aw..." Hesam folded his big mechanic's arms around them both. "You guys start crying and then I'm going to cry and..."   "Not crying, you moron," sniffed Squish. A half smile curled the ends of his mouth.   Hesam grinned back. "Idiot."   "Alright, gentlemen..." Nathan broke the bro-huddle and limped towards the entrance. "Let's get Firefly G-82668 and her shuttle to a respectable dealer. I know a guy on Hera who—"   "Six-niner," Squish corrected. "...I think... maybe five-something... Anyway, unlike Hesam here, I actually do know a guy on Deadwood who would pay through the nose for an intact—"   "Wait!" bellowed Hesam. "You said 'shuttle'. Single."   Nathan and Squish turned to him, each with creased brows.   "As far as I know, most Fireflys have two end-/ex-shuttles—port and starboard. Did anyone check to see if there was another shuttle was still attached?"   The other two men looked at one another and shrugged.   "We were all together, Mr. Rastkar. Of course we didn't check."   That unease that Squish had hoped was hug-melted into a tiny puddle of bygones suddenly rematerialized. He took a step backwards, stooped down with his eyes still fixed on the engineer, and picked up the pulse rifle again. "The other shuttle. We..." He swallowed hard. "I just assumed it was also somewhere out there with some other brainblown in it. What if...?"   Captain Nathan held out his good hand at Squish. "I'll take point. Better give me the rifle."   Squish nodded and unburdened himself.  
. . .
   

Year 2514

Now

Eavesdown Docks

  "That's quite a shiner you've got there, Miss Jessa." Seth managed to point at her eye while heaving his trunk behind him. "I sure hope your daddy didn't give that to you."   Jessa spun around, her lithe little form completing a pirouette that wasn't half bad. "'Course not, silly. I don't got a daddy."   "Oh!" Seth dropped the trunk and scrambled to pick it back up again and pull it through the throng. "I'm...er...I'm sorry to hear that. Did he die in the Unification War?"   "Nope," she chirped. "I never had one. My mom and I were in a lifepod when the spacers found us. But I was told she was dead. I don't remember it, though. I was too little, I guess."   Seth struggled with both the weight of the trunk and with words. "I... well, I... I'm still really sorry, Miss Jessa. It's...very hard losing someone you love. My...um... I had a little girl once, too. But...well... "   "Billy McAllister gave me a black eye on accounta he's a big, fat meany baby. But I showed him. I gave him two for the price of one!"   He chuckled, a bit relieved at the change of subject. The thought of her was still too fresh. Too raw. "I bet you did. Say, how much further is this ship of yours? And...if you don't mind me asking...do you have siblings taking care of you now?"   "Oh, yeah. Tom. He's like my older brother, but he's not really on accounta he's nehiyawak an' I'm not."   "Sorry? Did you say he's ni hou? I don't understand."   "Like on Redbird Reservation, but he lives with me here in the Northgate District."   Seth gave a sheepish wince. "Sorry, Miss Jessa, but I'm completely new here. I don't have any idea what a Redbeard is and why I need a reservation for it. Is your brother a restaurant owner or something? Or are you saying I need a reservation to get onto this ship of yours?"   Jessa shook her head and pointed. "We're almost there, Mister Seth. Just down this street."   Seth stopped a moment, took a handkerchief from his pocket and swabbed his forehead. He was puffing a little. He was told there were lifters at the spaceports. Well, at the Gateway spaceport he was supposed to be at. But not here. This must be the worst place in all of Persephone, he thought. "I don't ...suppose you have... a lifter, do you?"   Jessa shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe Gobi's got one. He's got all kinds of neat stuff and a ship that's really strong if you don't mind it looking like an 'sploded clown. But it's a really good ship that's going to Hera and it's going to get you there in one piece. I promise. It'll be zhēn niú!   Before Seth could even inhale to respond, Jessa disappeared through the crowd. He strained to see where she went, but soon found himself sighing and wiping his brow of the sweat and dust.   "You'll need to be moving along, citizen."   Seth's head now jerked in the other direction, face-to-face with a couple of officers clad in what looked like the metallic discards of an old science fiction movie. He glanced at their badges, and stood straighter. "S...sorry, officers. I'm not supposed to be here."   The two officers smirked at one another. "Like I told you. That trunk of yours could trip a horse, so please move it off to the side."   "Right. Yes. Sorry. Say, could you tell me how to get to the nearest spaceport? I was supposed to be at Gateway but I think they got my ticket mixed up."   The first officer rolled his eyes. "Happens a lot around here. Especially since the post U-Day influx. Sorry, nothing we can do for you. We're busy looking for a little girl."   The other officer thrust a smart paper crawling with Cortex waves at Seth. "Maybe you can be of some assistance to us. Have you seen this girl?"   Seth looked. He blinked. Yes. Yes he had. And she had just run off. "I... uh..."   "Don't bother him, Larry. He's obviously lost. We don't have time to interrogate every backbirth that stumbles through here on the way to the Rim, now."   Seth shot them an insulted glance, then thought better of it. He grabbed the end of his trunk. "Sorry to waste your time," he muttered.   But the second officer's eyes squinted. "Just a minute." He slapped the back of his hand against his partner's arm and nodded in Seth's direction. "Sir? You've seen this girl, haven't you?"   Seth swallowed. He didn't like the way Officer "Larry" made that sound more like a command than a question, especially since his partner had specifically used the term "interrogate". He decided to stall by reaching for the smart paper. He pretended to take a closer look, but he really didn't need to. His encounter with Jessa was striking enough to stick in his mind. That was definitely her. But Seth also remembered the horror stories he heard stories about the corruption that was supposedly thicker than synthetic protein-based corn starch on cheap Londinium takeout. He was already overwhelmed by the chaos, the heat, the dust, and the trunk. He wasn't in the mood to get pulled into some local police station on a planet that was only meant to be a temporary layover. But he also wasn't a good liar in any sense.   The second officer leaned in. Seth mopped his forehead fiercely. He didn't want to, but he opened his mouth.    

Year: 2506, May

Eight years ago

A Firefly ship somewhere near the planet Shenzhou, Blue Sun system

"There it is," Hesam whispered. Why he was whispering, he didn't know. Well, yes. He did know, but he didn't want to think about it. "Intact. In pretty shape too. Sturdy enough for some captain to sublet out to some mineral prospectors, maybe."   Squish snorted and winked. "Shuttle this 'pretty' oughta be good enough for a Companion."   "Don't be stupid, idiot."   Squish flashed a nervous smile. The insults had lost their bite, but still seemed to make fitting distractions, regardless. "You're the one who called it 'pretty', moron."   Captain Nathan hobbled up to the door and pulled the latch. It hissed. Hesam could have sworn the words "Don't enter" could be heard in the hissing. The three of them hovered at the entrance.   "So," said Squish finally. "Who's gonna be all manly and impulsive and enter her?"   Hesam and Nathan literally turned in slow motion to look directly at Squish.   Squish blinked back at them, shrugging. "What?"   Nate sighed deep, recommitted his grip on the pulse rifle, and went in. Hesam continued to glare a moment longer and then followed, shaking his head.   "What?" Squish repeated. "Am I missing something here?" His shrug deepened and stood there for a while. Then, as if remembering something else, jerked his head back over his shoulder and scanned the shadows. "Hey, guys! Wait up, will ya?"   The bodies were actually stacked like chord wood. Neat. Deliberate. They were stripped of clothing just like logs stripped of their bark. Hesam and Squish heaved, but they both managed to keep whatever form of protein paste they'd recently ingested inside. Even Nate flinched, his head turning to the side for a moment.   "Jiàn tā de guǐ! What in the Blackness of the 'Verse is this?" bellowed Hesam. He could feel the blood drain from his face. He looked desperately between Squish and Nate.   Squish's nonverbal response consisted of a dry heave, while Nate's was only more silence.   "Told you that brainblown went crazy," muttered Squish finally.   "You can't tell me that a woman and a little girl did all this!" Hesam grabbed something off the floor and stomped towards the front of the shuttle. He thrust the partition with his newfound weapon held high, but there was nothing there. Nothing. As much nothing as the black of space and more space at the end of the universe.   "No," Nate muttered. "She didn't do it. Look." He pointed at the stack of bodies. Blood wasn't the only bodily fluid leaking out. Some of the holes, even the bite marks and the newer ones ripped open, showed something worse than rape had happened.   As if to give some kind of affirmation, Squish and Hesam both heaved again. Whether it was a mercy that nothing else came out was yet to be determined.   "It's no wonder we found that other shuttle so far away," said Hesam. "But...but why did she kill herself? If she wasn't crazy and she got away, why..."   Nate rubbed his chin. "Trauma like this..." He gestured about. "...seein' it is bad enough. That she did go insane, there is no doubt in my mind, my friend. But she didn't murder these people."   After a slow blink, Nate continued speaking mostly through grit teeth and a clenched jaw. "Imagine you were one of these about to get the same thing done to you. Imagine you had to watch it. Imagine your little girl was there or...somewhere... That kind a' trauma don't jus' leave a person. Bends the mind all manner of twisted. And it never, ever goes away. Don't let that gŏu pì about 'time healing all wounds' confuse none. Reckon for some folk, the only way to survive something this..." Nathan concentrated hard to unclench his jaw and finish the words. He punched the wall a little harder than he meant to. "...is to just exit permanent."   "Even with a kid?"   Nate fiercely rubbed his face. "Maybe even especially with a kid. Maybe there bein' some manner of conflict between the motherly instinct to protect and the human instinct to fight any shadow that jumps. Maybe it was the sane part of her that ended herself. Before the worst thoughts of all make it into that inner place. That it will happen again. That the kid can't be protected. That she will get contaminated. That she's damaged beyond repair..."   "Wh-who?" squeaked Squish.   Hesam paused the pale nausea on his face to make room for a look of annoyance. "What do you mean 'who'?"   "Who's damaged beyond repair? The mom? Or... or the kid?"   Hesam opened his mouth, but then closed it. He glanced at the floor.   "But... but we won't let that happen, will we Captain? We won't cast her aside, right?"   Nate looked at Squish.   Squish's eyes got larger. The question filled the room. Filled the Black. "Right, Captain?"    

Year: 2506, July

Eight years ago

Eavesdown Docks

Nate rang the doorbell at the Odynova Children's Workhome. He swallowed hard, pulled at the sleeve of his bad arm and made a slight adjustment to his mechanical leg. He waited. The girl stood as quiet as the long transit in the Black between worlds. In a moment, he rang the bell again. This time, he ran his hand over his hair a few times, and fidgeted with his leg. When he heard the door locks unlatch, he stood up a little straighter.   The door opened a crack. The bang of the door chain ceased its motion, but it was enough for Nate to see her. And it was enough for her to see him. The hesitation felt as long as another transit. The sigh was as audible as the breaching of ship seals. The door slammed shut, followed by the clatter of the chain. In a moment, the door flew open wide, and out stepped headmistress Alexeyevna Yakovlena.   "Alexa." Nathan's word was as much a greeting as it was an announcement as it was a worshiping prayer.   The resolve that she had so carefully painted upon her face every day seemed to Nathan to crack for an instant, showing a flurry of emotion. Pain. Memory. Tenderness. Guilt. Pity. Remorse. Anger. An entire history in parts that, when put together, was the complexity that was his Alexa.   "Philip Nathan." Hers was as much a greeting as it was an indictment as it was an admonishment.   The use of his full name made Nate flinch. Like two bullets, grazing yet another bit of weak flesh that he'd have to replace with something cold and artificial and durable.   "You have more courage than I had given you credit. I thought you would never darken my door again. And yet, here you are. What could you possibly want?" She folded her arms and stared down at him.   When had he taken a step backward, he wondered. He returned to the top stair, dragging his metallic leg up with half pained grunt. "Alexa, you...you look as lovely as ever. Time hasn't touched you. You are as grac—"   "What do you want, Nathan? I've little time for your immature compliments anymore. I have a house to run, and children that need supervision."   Nate lowered his head, then gave a quick nod. He tugged on the little girl's hand. She emerged from behind him, sucking a thumb and staring up at Alexeyavna with big black eyes. In her arm was a small stuffed sock decorated with some crude permanent ink to resemble something with eyes, an animal nose, and an attempt at a smile.   Alexeyavna considered the girl, and did not flinch. She tilted her head, eyes still fixed upon her. Finally, she looked up at Nate. "Is she a war orphan? We get a lot of those these days. Too many, in fact. So if you think I possibly have room, you—"   "Ever hear of that planet, Miranda?"   "I do recall something associated with a terraforming failure. Why do you ask?"   "Do you remember anything about any survivors?"   Alexeyavna folded her arms. "I don't recall anything other than my brief assessment of how much money was wasted, and that a few key members of parliament were calling for yet another hearing. But like the government, I didn't follow it all that closely because I had more important things on my mind." Her stance added the tapping of a foot.   "You don't still blame me for not getting into that convent, do you?"   "I was foolish enough to think that someone the likes of you wouldn't rub off on me. It was as if the mother superior could smell your influence."   Nate's jaw clenched. As soon as it did, he saw in a way only a man who knew her could see it; Alexeyavna's left eyebrow raised ever so slightly. He could hear her say without speaking: "There it is. Wrath."   "Look, I believe this girl is a survivor of Miranda. We found a shuttle with the body of her mother in it. The shuttle belongs to a ship that seems to have come from there, but there were no survivors on board. I found a medical grade optical dis—"   "So the peddler has come to sell me his found junk? Why don't you take care of her yourself? Or are you abandoning your responsibility once again?"   Nate took in a deep breath. She already called him on his anger, so it no longer mattered if he let it show his frustration now. "You know good and well that the depths of space is no place to raise a child. She needs things I ain't got. I— Alexa, I got no one else to turn to. I—I hardly can hold on to my own bits. And you— You took good care a'me once. Put me back together when I oughta fell down. When I was hurt 'fore I keened. Like you take good care a'these here kids."   He looked for something. Anything. A softening. A memory in the eye. Hell, even a color in the cheek or a flared nostril, gorramit. He blinked. A voice inside his head came to him. It didn't speak in his tone. It was hers. "Blasphemy, Mr. Nathan. Let your tongue slip again and I shall have to dock you—one day's pay."   The left eyebrow Alexeyavna had raised ever so slightly resumed its original position. "Maybe we had a past once, Nathan. But that was years ago. I've long since cast you aside. Now, I shall take the child as is my Godly duty, and you shall be gone. Good day."   Headmistress Yakovlena grabbed the child by the arm and pulled her inside. The door slammed much harder than it needed to be. Nathan stood there on the porch, looking at the door with both his good eye and his artificial one. Neither could see past it.    

Year 2514

Now

Eavesdown Docks

  Gobi hated trying to upload his spreadsheets to the Cortex™. He was being half-hypnotized by the never-ending swirl of a loading icon when the explosion hit. His animal brain made him jump up before his thinking brain could overcome the induced catatonia, and it made him fly out of his back room office, down the hall, and into the storefront foyer.   Despite the fact that there was a sign taped to the door clearly written in big black marker "BACK IN ONE HOUR" the smallish lobby contained no less than five, maybe six other people and...their luggage? All staring out the window. Before Gobi could heap this latest oddity on top of his contemplation pile, he suddenly found that his legs met the nigh immovable object known as his lifter. A moment later, when he opened his eyes and they regained focus, he found himself on his back and looking up at the ceiling, not fully sure how he got there. And the curious eyes of Jessa looking down at him.   "There you are," she chirped. "Is your nap over? 'Cuz I told the passengers to keep it down so they wouldn't wake you up."   Gobi blinked a couple of times, then lifted himself upright. He joined the other strange people at the windows of Peshwar & Son. There was a column of black smoke billowing in the direction of the Westgate District, but only over a couple of blocks. People in the street were heading in two distinct directions. The ones with looks of horror on their faces were heading away from the smoke. Meanwhile, the ones with looks of curiosity, bravery, or occasionally sadistic excitement, were rushing towards it. The pair of Eavesdown cops running towards the smoke with weapons drawn helped to clear Gobi's head a little more.   "Jessa?" Somehow Gobi realized that his speech was coming out the kind of cool and calm that often accompanied those with fresh but minor head trauma. But beyond that realization, he couldn't make himself worked up yet.   "Yeah?"   "Why do you have my lifter?"   "Cuz Seth has a trunk. He says where he's from it's easier to get around. So I'm just borrowing your lifter for his trunk."   "Oh." There was a lengthy pause. "Jessa?"   "Yeah?"   "Who is Seth and why does he have a trunk?"   She shrugged. "Maybe 'cuz he's s'pose to be at Gateway Docks and not here. But it's okay. We'll get him to Hera, won't we?"   Gobi shook his head. He immediately regretted it because it felt like his brain was sloshing about in there like gelatin in a pressure cooker. "We... we will? We?"   Jessa nodded vigorously. "Yep! In your ship. I cleaned it up and everything for you!"   Gobi shook his head again, but this time with more care and deliberation. "Jessa. No! We are a salvage business. Not a bloody taxi service."   Jessa stopped pulling on the hover-lifter. She looked at Gobi with puppy-dog eyes. "Aw, you said you'd do it. You said if I done it clean and got us money for gas, we could go to Hera. We made a deal and everything."   Gobi let out a deep sigh and looked at his fellow gawkers, still peering out the window. A woman in a shawl and headscarf holding the hand of a little kid, maybe seven years. A middle-aged man in dusty overalls who was wearing a miner's helmet for some reason. A couple of rather short young men dressed alike in casual silk tángzhuāng. And some guy who looked rather large in a turban, a very thick busy beard, and a long overcoat.   "You promised," Jessa echoed, this time with a little extra bite to her words.   Another sigh later, he nodded. "A deal is a deal, Miss Jessa."   Wasting no time, Jessa heaved on the lifter, and its anti-gravity boot unlocked. "Thanks-you-won't-regret-this-I-gotta-go-get-Seth-now-bye!"   The people in the lobby now looked at Gobi. Gobi returned a sheepish half-smile. "You...can pay...can't you?"  

Year 2514

One Week Ago

Eavesdown Docks

  Nate leaned forward on his cane. He almost rang the bell. Almost.   "This is a stupid idea," he muttered at no one in particular. He looked at the medical grade recording disc in his hand. A cough and the ache of his muscles interrupted his contemplation. He pocketed the disc and turned.   He gave a start when he saw the man standing there, a pair of hedge shears in his hand. The figure said nothing verbally, but his meaning was clear.   Nate regained his composure, however. "You must be Alexa's...uh...I mean, Headmistress Yakovlena's new handyman."   The figure nodded once.   Nate extended his hand. "Captain Phil Nathan. We go way back." Nate's hand was never met. Eventually, he withdrew. "I'm here about one of her girls. Jessa...something...I just know her first name. I have something of hers I really need to give her."   Nate noticed a faint tremor in the man's eye when he mentioned the name of the girl he'd never been able to stop having nightmares over. The man gestured for Nate to follow him inside. Maybe now, he could find again the little girl he had left behind and put things right.  

Year 2514

Now

Eavesdown Docks

  Phil Nathan considered himself a tracker. That meant using your own eyes and ears to find what it was you were looking for and not relying on someone else's word or their gadgets. But he was an old tracker. His good eye wasn't nearly so good, and his artificial one had been replaced a couple of times. And his hearing wasn't what it used to be. That, too, now had at least one device added. And old trackers were slow. But his mind was still as sharp, and that sharp mind and patient observation was putting everything together. Despite the slow, he would get there eventually. Today was that eventually.   "Excuse me? Miss?"   The young girl and man had just loaded up a stupidly big trunk out of the bi-directional paths of the hurrying crowd. They turned towards Nate. Seeing the smart paper in his hand with Jessa's hasty advertisement for transit to Hera, she waved her hands at him. "Sorry, mister. We's all full up now."   "You're Jessa, aren't you?"   The other man squirmed his sweaty, panting body in between Nate and the girl. It was probably due to the cybernetic parts. They made Nate look the part of a perfect vid-feed villain. "Sh-she said we were all full up, Mister. It's best you move along."   If Nate had the eye to do it, he'd roll them. Instead he gave a snort and brushed Seth aside. There was no resistance.   "Jessa?" He smiled as kindly as he was still able. His face protested at the forgotten usage. "Name's Philip Léon Nathan. You don't know me, but I know you. I apologize it's taken me this long, but ...well...I was the one found you when you was knee high. Was a shuttle way out near Shenzhou in the Blue Sun system"   Jessa just stared back, slack-jawed. "You—you knew my mom?"   Nate took off his hat and hung his head. He ran his fingers through his long hair and sucked in a breath. But before he could reply, Seth stepped back between them again.   "You've got to have more than that, Mr. Nathan. Now...now, before I call the cops, you'd better—"   "You her daddy now?"   Seth blinked. "Well...er...not rea—but that shouldn't matter when—when..."   Nate reached into his breast pocket. "And just call me 'Nate'. None a' that 'Mister' or 'Captain' nonsense, y'hear?" He pulled out another smart paper and handed it to the trembling man. "You check those Ministry authentication signatures and time-date stamps." He then held up his other hand. In it was an IdentCard. But while he held it in plain sight, he kept it firmly in grip. A hint of a smirk twitched at the corner of his mouth towards the sticky-handed girl. Meanwhile, Seth assumed a posture not unlike that of a fictitious vid-feed lawyer, probably from the same movie whose popular villain was half cybernetic.   "You aren't here to take me back to the Workhome are you?" Jessa's wide eyes remained fixed on the IdentCard. She took a few steps back, but though her legs seemed to twitch like a scared rabbit, her gaze remained transfixed and kept her.   Nate slowly and calmly held up his hands "I'm only here to give you something that's rightfully yours, Miss Jessa. I ain't have it in any mind to do nothin' else. And your temporary guardian and part time attorney here will rightfully witness such."   Seth blushed and sheepishly handed back the smart paper. "Seth. Seth Zeleny." He turned to Jessa. "Checks out. But..." He glanced at Nate, then to Jessa again, making his silent objection obvious.   Jessa remained tense. She nodded at the IdentCard, but still held a posture that hinted at bolting. She breathed heavily, opening and closing her mouth a few times before finally speaking. "You knew my mom?" she repeated. The edge in her voice made it sound more like a demand and less like a question.   Nate's eyes cast downwards again. "I'm afraid not, Miss Jessa. Your mother was deceased when we found you. It's a miracle that—" He cleared the lump that appeared in his throat. "—that we found you at all. I thank that Good Lord for that."   Jessa's own eyes turned down. "Oh." She kicked at the dirt. "Thought maybe you knew her before..."   "But I did find this." He held out his hand. This time, it had a medical grade optical disc in it. "I had meant to leave it with Ale— with the orphanage, but..." He rubbed his neck and the air of awkward grew a few degrees further. "You're going to want to look at it."   Jessa took the disc and held it in her hand. She turned it over a few times, then looked back up at him. "Thank you, Nate." Her voice was so quiet, the buzz of the crowd fleeing either towards or away from the thick column of black smoke nearly masked it. She hesitated once more, and this time Nate was sure she was going to bolt. But instead, she lept forward and kissed him on the cheek.   Seth merely stared back in shock.   Nate's own face was at a similar level of surprise. Somehow a blush that seemed out of place on an old grizzled face such as his danced upon it regardless. He put his hat back on his head. "Thank you, Miss Jessa."   Her moist eyes blinked. "Whatever for?"   He rubbed the back of his neck and gave her a half-broken smile. "On account a' this here gives old things such as m'self a second chance. That I took what was left behind and found its home."   But then Nate's face changed again. The relief and blush abated, leaving in their wake a kind of sadness. He looked Jessa straight in the eye with his good one. "I done my duty to deliver unto you a truth you have full right t' know, Miss Jessa. Truth is a hard and heavy burden, and I thank y'kindly for allowin' an old broke man such as m'self the chance to unburden. There's plenty in this 'Verse that's broke but don't mean it's broke beyond repair. Ain't my place to fix broke things. Jus' t' point out second chances to them that can."   Jessa and Seth exchanged glances. "I'm afraid I don't understand, Mr. Nate."   Nate handed her a card similar in size to his IdentCard. "This here is encrypted. Opened only by you." He took her hand as she reached for it and pressed her thumb to the surface. "There. Molecular print now. Come a time you need—you'll know when—you send me a wave. Understood?"   Jessa shook her head. Behind her, the thick black cloud that should have been dissipating only grew darker.

Translations:

*Warning: May contain strong language.   fèiwù [Chinese]
“junk”, lit. “abandoned thing”
  gorram [Fireflyese]
probably evolved from “goddamn” — approved by Fox Network censors for your entertainment pleasure
  hòutíng [Chinese]
“anus”, lit. “backyard”
  Κύριε, ἐλέησον (Kyrie eleison) [liturgical, Greek]
Lord, have mercy!

dohn ma or dong ma or dohn la ma [Chinese]
“understand” or “are we clear here?”
  fèihuà [Chinese]
“bullshit”, “nonsense”
  gŏu pì [Chinese (slang)]
Mandarin equivalent to saying “bullshit” or “bollocks.” (literally “dog fart”).
  jiàn tā de guǐ [Chinese]
“damn / dammit / bloody hell”; Jian ta de gui is a more fleshed out version of the oath jian gui, which literally means to “see ghosts.” It’s just a catch-all phrase for when you’re displeased with something, sort of like in English “Damn.” Ghosts can be inauspicious agents in Chinese culture, so saying “see a ghost” implies underworld, Devil type stuff. Jian ta de gui has the same overtones, except it literally means “see your ghost.” You can use it to swear at somebody (especially if you take offense at something they’ve done or said) or as a general curse of your situation.
  ni hou [Chinese]
“hello”
  qián kǒu [Chinese]
“shut up”; lit. “pliers mouth”
  wǒ de mā [Chinese]
“My God”; lit. “my mother”. Appropriate for use in very serious situations.
  zhēn niú [Chinese (slang)]
means "really cool, awesome".

tángzhuāng (唐装): a kind of Chinese jacket with a straight mandarin collar. It is an adaption of the Manchu "horse jacket" (magua), a waist- or three-quarter-length front-opening jacket or surcoat. This was initially worn—usually in a dark blue color—by Manchu horsemen, but became mandatory for Han officials' clothing under the Qing Empire. Over time, it evolved from a protective apron for the changshan into an item of Chinese fashion in its own right and even a mark of imperial favor. Its use then spread among the common Han, including among the Chinese diaspora abroad.  
The reader may find several obvious references to the episode "Out of Gas". This story is, in part, an homage to that episode.



Cover image: Firefly Verse Banner by Shaudawn

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