Retro-vertigo | By : spaceoddity Category: 1 through F > Firefly Views: 1948 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Firefly universe, with the exception of original characters & settings, is owned by Joss Whedon. Not for profit. |
Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Firefly/Serenity universe is owned by Joss Whedon. Original characters and settings belong to moss_gypsy and may not be used w/o express permission from the author. No profit was gained during the creation/promotion of this text. All quotes/lyrics are copyright their respective owners and are used with artistic license. Thanks to Serenity: Role Playing Game and the Big Damn Hero's Handbook for Chinese translations. French/Cajun translations used, with gratitude, from the World Wide Web of bing.searchyourassoff.com #mofo
Summary: WIP; A routine stop on Persephone leads to Serenity accommodating four new passengers—Jayne Cobb's former band mates. What? You thought he was just some douche bag that played guitar all by his self?
Rating: Adult
Pairings: 1 2 many
Feedback: Feedback gets me off.
Characters: The crew of Serenity minus Shepherd Book, who is at the abbey. In my Firefly 'verse, Book, Wash, and Mr. Universe are still alive, and Inara hasn't left yet. Also, five original characters, one of which is deceased prior to the story.
Retro-vertigo
by Moss Gypsy
Translations:
“Mais..." (phonetically, "mAh," or mEh“) = Well...
"Jahn!" = shiny/fantastic
"Roger wilco" = Orders received, will comply (military slang the GI's brought back from Vietnam)
"Merci beaucoup" = Thanks a lot
*A note on translations: Some of the foreign words are spelled phonetically, just because those are easier for American reader to sound out. Because I am American, and I'm assuming the Reader is not versed in foreign languages (and because I'm lazy), I haven't gone out of the way to correct spelling errors. The languages primarily used throughout this piece are English, French, Cajun English, and Mandarin Chinese. *
Ch. 1
***
Swallower of planets. The profits of doom.
Quarterly projections: the profits of doom.
***
Soft morning light was seeping through the cracks in a relatively empty saloon located in the warehouse district, just east of the Eavesdown docks on Persephone. The few patrons that dotted the bar were talking quietly amongst themselves. Few sat at the wooden tables scattered in between stout, high backed booths, sipping tea or caff or picking at small plates of food. Toward the back of the warehouse, a large platform raised about a meter from the concrete floor served as a stage; the area still held the previous occupants' bar stools and belongings—even at this early hour—as though the band hadn't left since their arrival the night before.
Captain Malcolm Reynolds accepted a drink proffered him by the proprietor, then threw a passing glance at the profile of the chestnut-haired woman on stage. She was bent over a shiny steel guitar, quietly plucking a soulful tune. The music reminded Mal of the blues bands he'd heard in the dive bars on Paquin. Since then, blues had been one of his favorite musical genres.
Mal's first mate, Zoe Warren, sat next to him in the booth, accepting her drink but not sipping from the glass. If Mal didn't know better, he'd say the dark eyed woman seemed a mite uneasy without their third gunner present. Not that she'd ever back down from a fight, mind. But Zoe preferred stealth to formal meetings—especially since their last encounter with Adelai Niska. Mal would never have brought her here in the first place had Badger not asked this particular “favor” of him.
Anyone who worked with Badger knew that his favors either began or ended in blackmail, and they rarely went smooth. The captain reasoned that when Badger stopped being profitable, he would stop using the man's influence. For now, there was gold to be had.
Now, a harmonica replaced the notes of the steel guitar, played by a bony man with dark curling hair. Mal noted the harmonica player's shiny cowboy boots had obviously never seen the wear and tear of a ranch. But he played with an expertness that the captain appreciated. Near this man stood a second, broader man, who was plucking a lingering bass rhythm.
Taking a sip of his drink, Mal finally returned his attention to the man in front of Zoe and him.
A tall, sinewy Japanese man, dark hair hanging round his ears, sat in the seat opposite Mal. The man wore black slacks and a white button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. A thin black tie hung loose under the open collar of the wrinkled shirt. He had introduced himself as Shinichirô Shimazu, Badger's associate, then added with a suave, too easy smile, to call him 'Shin.' Upon introductions, it didn't take Malcolm long to figure out that Shin was a man who was used to getting anything he wanted, and without question.
A moneyed individual, Mal thought wryly.
Shin sat comfortably now, leaning back with his long legs outstretched and one arm propped across the back of his booth. He had already explained that Badger had assured him not only that Malcolm Reynolds would be willing to negotiate the band's passage to their home world, but also that the captain of the Firefly called Serenity would go out of his way to avoid the Alliance.
Mal's first thought was to wonder which of the band's members—if not all of them—were fugitives. His next thought was price.
“Acadiana is good piece from here,” the captain intoned, giving Zoe a meaningful glance. “Way I figure, it'll take about a week to get there once we've fueled up. Longer, maybe, if we have to dodge the Feds.” Now, he looked pointedly at Shin.
“Sounds about right, Sir,” Zoe said, taking in the band on stage, who had now began playing an old, familiar cover otune. “That's a lot of passengers. Not to mention cargo.”
Shin was cool as a cucumber as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a fat roll of platinum. With a smirk, he slid the bundled up credits across the table to the captain.
"That's thirty-five hundred. Count it, if you want." Shin paused to let Mal thumb through the credits, then added, “You get us home, there's more coin where that came from."
Sounds easy enough, Mal thought to himself as he considered his next move. He needed the cash. This much platinum could afford the crew a small bonus, with plenty left over for Serenity's maintenance, even with the extra passengers. If the equipment on stage was tell enough, then this band knew a thing or two about making money. That was, after all, the biggest drum set Mal had ever seen. And those guitars must have cost a pretty penny...
However, he knew first hand that anyone wanting to avoid the Alliance most likely had trouble with it. The captain was at the disadvantage of not knowing exactly what kind of trouble he might be dealing with. Could be simple. Then again, Malcolm Reynolds knew better than most that things rarely went smooth.
When Shin Shimazu observed the conflict on the captain's otherwise stoic face, he continued to sweeten the deal.
“In addition to our gold and musical talents,” Shin said slowly, “we are prepared to offer you something of an herbal variety. ”
“Herbal,” Zoe repeated, arching an eyebrow.
“Sometimes, it is referred to as 'spice.' But you must have a sample,” Shin insisted smoothly. Throwing a glance over his shoulder toward the stage where his band sat, still playing, Shin called out loudly, “Li!”
At this, Mal and Zoe shot each other silent glances His gray eyes questioned; her chocolate browns warned.
Great, Mal thought. Never could take a quiet job I suppose. That is, unless Zoe plays along.
At once, Mal looked up to see the siren on stage lift her gaze from the instrument she was playing and toss her red hair from her eyes. Mal couldn't tell if that penetrating stare was filled with innocent curiosity, or if her eyes were throwing knives. Either way, the look lasted only seconds before she knelt, gently replacing the guitar into the case near her feet. With that, she jumped gracefully from the stage and made her way over to their booth.
“Captain Reynolds. Ms. Warren,” Shin began as the woman approached. “Allow me to introduce our vocalist and guitarist, Liana Laveau. Liana, this is Captain Reynolds and his first mate, Ms. Zoe Warren.”
Liana, hands shoved into the pockets of her jacket, gave Mal and Zoe and polite nod.
“Call me Li,” the vocalist remarked as she slid into the booth next to Shin. “Nice t' meet ya. ”
“Li, let the captain and his first mate here have a taste of the spice. ”
“Mais, o-kay,” she replied with a slow smile as she looked from the captain to his mate and back to Shin.
Mal noted that Liana's voice held a drawl and some accent he wasn't familiar with. He looked around cautiously as she withdrew a hand from her pocket. In it was a metal cigarette case, the embossed scroll work well worn from the use of the thing.
As he watched Liana light the cigarette with a match proffered by Shin, Malcolm decided there was something off about the girl. He couldn't exactly pinpoint what that something was, however. It wasn't in the graceful way she moved, nor was it in the musical way she spoke. No, it was something about her face. Full, robust lips lay beneath Li's high cheekbones. Her eyes--
At that moment, Li stretched her arm across the table, offering Mal the pungent cigarette. He locked eyes with her as he reached for the smoke, and immediately understood the reason for his earlier suppositions.
Her eyes are mismatched, he marveled, lips parting slightly as he took the spice from the petite female. One storm cloud gray, the other a light shade of violet.
Huh...
As Li straightened, her violet eye winked at him, and Mal's eyes narrowed before his gaze dropped quickly to the smoking cigarette between his fingers. He gave the bar another look over.
“Go ahead,” Shin encouraged, gesturing toward the cigarette. "We're in good with the guy that owns this place.” With a tawdry smile that oozed confidence, he raised a hand to the bartender, who stopped polishing a glass long enough to return the salute. “In fact,” Shin added, “he bought a good amount of weight off me soon as we landed."
"Is that so?" Mal raised the spice to his lips, inhaled a sweetly piquant smoke. Smooth. And it doesn't reek to high hell, either. He gave a nod, offering the cigarette to Zoe.
At first, she only stared at him, then her cool gaze passed to the bar.
“What, you don't smoke?” Mal asked with a playful glint in his eye.
Hardly ever one to back down from a challenge, Zoe pushed her curling hair over her shoulder, then took a reluctant drag. Mal propped his elbows on the table top, hiding a grin behind his hand.
“It's smooth,” Zoe remarked as she exhaled, echoing the captain's earlier sentiments. She handed the spice back to Shin.
“Smoking is just one of the ways spice can be ingested. ” Shin took a drag, passed it off to Li; his gaze remained on Zoe, however, as he continued. “Many people prefer brewing it in tea. Some cook with it, too, but I don't recommend it unless you have a clear schedule ahead of you. ”
“See, Zoe?” Mal remarked as Li gave him the cigarette. “You'd probably like the tea better. I bet Shin here would even put the kettle on for ya,” he added, gesturing toward the Japanese man.
Shin exchanged a subtle look with the Liana, who was pressing her lips together as though she were trying not to laugh.
“But of course,” Shin replied smoothly, his eyes smiling.
Mal took another slow drag, savoring the cigarette's exotic flavor. When he tried to pass the smoke to his mate, Zoe turned it down with a slight shake of her head that caused her dark curls to bounce.
“Sure you don't wanna hit this again?” Mal asked his companion quietly. She barely concealed a sigh as she gave the dive another once over.
“Not now, Sir. ”
“I'm just tryin' to be polite,” muttered the captain, giving the smoke to Shin instead. Mal could not really detect any immediate threat in the vicinity. Far as he could tell, neither Shin nor Miss Laveau even had a gun concealed on their persons. Didn't mean they didn't have anything, just not a pistol that Mal could see.
“Ah, let her have her clear head, Captain,” Shin said, giving Zoe a wink. He shifted his gaze quickly, though, when his wink earned him a sharp glare. Instead, Shin opted to hit the spice Mal passed to him. “There's plenty to tide us all over till we reach Acadiana.”
True, Mal thought to himself, Jayne had ditched them to get supplies with Wash—Jayne's idea of supplies being bullets and booze. The captain was glad that his first mate was alert, but he couldn't help feeling a twinge of guilt all the same. He wanted to give Zoe a chance to relax. Tagging along with this band might just present him with that opportunity. That, or this would be another one of those instances when he'd get a good lecturing on the way back to Serenity.
Now, Shin's arm lifted off the back of the booth as he offered Li the smoke. Mal stole another glance at the younger woman's mesmerizing eyes before addressing the well dressed man.
“How much of this stuff do you guys have?” he asked bluntly.
Shin smirked at him. “A lot more than we wanna get caught with. Plenty for you and your crew. So wha'd'ya say, Captain Reynolds?”
Mal looked the platinum in his hand, then at Zoe. She lifted her eyebrows and tilted her head in his direction. That was all the ascent he needed.
“Alright, Shin,” Mal said. “We'll take you and your band to Acadiana in exchange for a bit o' spice and, say, sixty-five?” Shin looked pleased as he flashed his eyes to Liana. Then he extended his hand to Malcolm.
"Sixty-five is quite reasonable. I'll transfer the rest to your account when we land. I can assure you, Captain, you won't be disappointed." After shaking Mal's hand, Shinichirô turned to the still-grinning girl beside him.
“Jahn!" he exclaimed with a clap of his hands. "Li, go help Chris and Sammy load up the gear. I'll join you after I've settled up with the bartender.”
“Roger wilco,” Li replied with a nod. She took one last drag on the spice before stubbing the cigarette out in the ashtray. But instead of pocketing the remainder, she held it out to Mal, a small smile tugging the corner of her mouth. Mal wondered again at those startling eyes as he accepted the remaining half of the cigarette and tucked it into his breast pocket. The violet orb appeared warm and inviting, but the gray was distant...shadowed.
"Merci beaucoup, Captain Reynolds,” she said with a sly smile. Then she nodded a goodbye to the first mate. “Ms. Warren.”
Even just speaking, Mal reflected, Liana's voice was melodic. He watched her leave for a moment, then turned to his mate.
"Zoe," the captain said, all business once more. "Get Wash on a wave. Tell him we're gonna need the mule. And the big trailer."
"Yes, sir."
A.N.: The lyrics in asterisks are Profits of Doom from the 2004 album “Blast Tyrant” by the super awesome band Clutch. A ton of music inspired this fic, and I want to give credit where credit is due. Please, don't sue me for copyright infringement; I am currently in the process of asking permission from the various artists who contributed to my muse for their permission to use these lyrics, even though this fic is not, I repeat NOT FOR PROFIT. As such, please bear with me.
So far, this story has not been beta tested. All proofreading, editing, and translating is handled by yours truly. Expect rad changes in the future, and if you'd like to help edit and/or translate my fic, or if you are an artist who has...somehow...discovered this story, and you notice your work included herein, regardless of how you feel about it, PLEASE speak w/ me first BEFORE any legal action is pursued, or I will crush you into the dirt (joking! Love all my artists!). Seriously, just drop me a line at moss.gypsy@gmail.com ^^ I am happy to receive any and all feedback/critiques.
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