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Re: Family Frustrations.

PostPosted: Fri Dec 25, 2009 5:18 pm
by Tavey
Kynthia nodded slowly. What Bug had to say was no surprise in truth. Shoddy had taken her aside and talked to her about how Bug would just look at bits of machinery blankly instead of the usual fire and enthusiasm that he had once had.

"I know some about head injuries." She began, patting the youngster on the arm gently. "Got no memory afore Serenity Valley, and precious little of the times after that for a space. You ain't got to worry about having a place to be on this ship, should you want to stay. We can find new things what you are good at, and maybe make some new places in your brainpan for them to be."

She looked pointedly at Sam. "Ain't that the right of it?" she asked. "Everyone what is on my crew can stay, if'n they want to be here."

TAG - Sam and Bug.

Kynthia thought for a moment, then turned to her cortex screen, tapping in a quick command. A simple message appeared. Nothing fancy, just a few lines on a white screen.

Ten years is a long time to wait to say goodbye.
Hera. Serenity Valley.
On the morning, when the sun rises, we will bring fire to light their way.

"We've got a date coming up what I ain't inclined to miss."


Re: Family Frustrations.

PostPosted: Sun Dec 27, 2009 12:31 am
by Quamie
“Well...” he said softly, looking over his shoulder with a wolfish grin on his face “ much of a grinning idiot did I make of myself? I’d have picked another poison that’d put me out but, well, you start seeing stain glass windows everywhere I grabbed what I could.”

It took a moment for Ameri to process what he was saying. "'re in that much pain? From what? Maybe I can help.."

Re: Family Frustrations.

PostPosted: Mon Jan 04, 2010 1:35 pm
by Jake Sjet
“It’s not such.” He said, looking at the floor and kicking out lightly with his feet, the tingling fading ever so slightly. He sighed, looking at the young medic out of the corner of his eye.

“Its...something deeper than pain.” He played with his hands on his lap, toying with either the painful truth or a pleasant lie “Every 13 hours and change...I start seeing things, hearing them, feeling things deep in my core to. I know, I know you’re thinking its hallucinations, but to me they are as real as they get. I...I feel like God’s poked his finger into my head, and...and that's my gift for a curious nature a blight of short lived kindness.”

He shivered suddenly, wrapping his arms around his chest, laughing nervously.

“Now I sound crazy...well crazier.” He smiled nervously at Ameri “But it’s hard to be rational when something so powerful and true just forces its way into your life. Its...its beyond pain, and fear, a rending of all your morals as you know them. And if your asleep when it happens the dreams...the dreams...”

He was looking into a corner of the room beyond the ship, beyond the stars, to a place only he went every now and then, and wished never to return from.

“That's why I look to knock myself out into a nice chemically induced coma every now and then. Being conscious through one of of my episodes tends to make rational thought and sanity seem like interesting concepts. And its not a question of it being false, its the reason it feels...right...real...and then to have it all taken away in a instant after the attack, to know its all fake-” He looked straight at her suddenly “I’m guessing there’s some doctor patient confidentiality for this thing right?”

TAG-Ameri, anyone else. Canada is fracking cold! REALLY COLD!!

Nakali Xiancho' Sjet
Registered Crazy Soul

Re: Family Frustrations.

PostPosted: Tue Jan 05, 2010 12:02 pm
by KendleRJ
No one about. Tarragon Hunter poked her head out of her quarters in the passenger section with some newly dried spices and noticed nothing amiss. No one was moving around the halls, and that was just fine for her. It was a short jaunt to the kitchen and she was glad that no one seemed to be there either.

It wasn't as though she thought she was the only one aboard, but it appeared that at this point in time, she was the only one in this section. Well, that meant she might have a bit of time to do her work out in the Cargo Bay! So, dropping off the fresh herbs in her own locker area in the kitchen, Tarra rushed back to get changed to blow off some steam.

She hadn't spoken to anyone really. And no one had even come looking for her. More relief in a strange sort of way since having to explain to people who Serena Johnson was... is... was...

Arriving back in her quarters allowed her the luxury of getting ready to go. Working out was a wonderful way to work out tension, and after that jaunt on a Slaver ship, with the bruises steadily reducing, it helped focus her tremendously. Anger, frustration, self-doubt. They all could not stand for long in the face of her straining muscles and knife katas.

Sachet, towel, knives... check, check annnnd check. No skirt. Double check. So, it was an easy matter of getting to the Bay, and then she could be alone again. It was... relaxing. One flight of stairs up to mid-Deck and then into the Hold. It was a little dark, no lighting had been left on to keep the frights at bay, so it was a sure sign she was alone here too. So, unrolling the mats, Tarra began her stretching, and then... to exercise. Pure. Empty-headed. Stress-Relieving. Focussing. Bliss.

~Anyone in the Cargo Hold area

Tarragon Hunter
Chef and Crew
Monarch - Firefly Class
At one with the 'Verse

Re: Family Frustrations.

PostPosted: Tue Jan 05, 2010 7:49 pm
by Quamie
Ameri listened quietly but intently. At some point, she sat down, but this was done so unobtrusively that the movement flew under the radar of all but those paying the most attention. She herself hardly seemed to have noticed, so genuine was her air of engrossment in what Jake was saying.

"Yes," she finally said, answering Jake's question. It was then that she realized that she was giving him direct eye contact, so absorbed had she been. Now realizing, she became instantly self-concious and dropped her gaze, then hopped up nervously, her mind grasping for straws of confidence.

"It sounds like torture," she sympathized. "What brought it on, do you know? Maybe we can look into a cure, or a way of managing these.. episodes without turning you nearly comatose. Do you mind if I take a look at what's in the pills- unless you happen to know right off the bat. Both active and inactive ingredients would be helpful- though I can hazard a guess."


Re: Family Frustrations.

PostPosted: Wed Jan 06, 2010 10:55 am
by Galifestus
She looked pointedly at Sam. "Ain't that the right of it?" she asked. "Everyone what is on my crew can stay, if'n they want to be here."

Bug grinned an honest full grin. He didn't rightly know what Sam had responded, but soon he found himself in the corridor with the empties heading for the galley to wash up, still with the grin. He got to stay!

Re: Family Frustrations.

PostPosted: Sat Jan 09, 2010 12:06 am
by KendleRJ
Well done and exercised out, Tarragon Hunter moved quickly back to her quarters. Subdued as though a pall hung over the ship, she smiled a little to herself and got well prepared for more of the same.

Silence wasn't welcome, but certainly a fine change to the rather rowdy run they had had aboard the Slaver ship. It had been a fitful few nights she spent, so it seemed rather appropriate for a nap. Anything to keep her focus away from everything. Everything else.

Laying atop her covers, she closed her eyes briefly and relived the time aboard the other ship. How close she came... THEY came. And how alone she had felt. STILL felt. Nodding to herself, she felt the emotions well up and she turned her face to the wall.

Funny thing, life. And its twists and turns. How strong she pretended to be. How strong she was. And alone. Well, that would be the precedent set for her. And she fell asleep, not quite resting, but not quite awake either.

Somehow seemed glad of the limbo of consciousness and the impending unconsciousness that inevitably followed her lack of thought. No thinking kept the shadows at bay, and her mind clearer. She was moving back to the kitchen before she even realized she was actually vertical. It appeared that cathartic cooking was just what the doctor ordered.

Tarragon Hunter's therapy benefitted the entire crew.

~Tag anyone

Tarragon Hunter
Chef and Crew Member
Monarch - Firefly Class
Cookin' Fool

Re: Family Frustrations.

PostPosted: Sun Jan 10, 2010 5:01 pm
by Jake Sjet
“I can even give you the name of the guy who supplies them.” He quipped, shaking his head and getting unsteadily onto his feet with all the confidence of a man who’s had his mind put into another’s body, and feeling about ten feet tall and blue.

(Can you tell I watched a certain film today?)

“Their mostly jumped up sleeping pills, a few mild mind altering substances, and I think one class H mind bender that's really not for the faint of heart, almost as worse as the episode itself...barely.” he admitted, working his toed against the cold steel decking “As for the how of why I get a personal visit by my own personal religion every 13 hours and change...I dunno.”

He looked back at her, the eye contact thing yet again giving her a glimpse of a man held together by a fine mixture of hatred, depression and a little smidge of the self righteous fire of a zealot. It was the look a man might wear when really, what he had to live for, was outweighed by all he had lost. But as he blinked against the glare of a over head light, a curtain of self deprecation fell and Nakali’s whimsical nature took hold.

“I was a Newsie back in the war, you know those guys with the little hand held cameras who ran out in the middle of a war zone with a comm.-set and a flak jacket to get, and this is funny, ‘the truth’. We never picked sides, we never coloured what we recorded to paint the Indie’s and Allies in a more positive light than the other. The truth...” he rolled his eyes, eyeing her again “I was naive enough to buy that line, and god bless my socks I even bought into it as I sat there in some stinking Indie fox hole on Hampton, freezing my nuts off during the winter campaigns, with the Allied Navy bombarding the Brownies from geo-snyc. They told us that a ‘Big Stick’ in orbit had the same chance of hitting us with one of its 90cm plasma cannons as it had with throwing a crow bar from one of it air locks. Go to Hampton, and from orbit you can see the dot dash Morse Code effect those battle cruisers made with their sustained firing on supposed ‘enemy’ positions. Guy who got that picture, I think he got a Nebula Award for it...”

He laughed.

“Do you remember seeing that picture, of the two soldiers in different coloured uniforms shaking hands over a mortar round that hadn’t gone off? The so called ‘Peace in Winter’ shot the anti war lobby’s rolled out every time a new causality figure became available? That was me, freezing cold, and the reason those two gun dogs weren’t shooting one another was because they had no ammo and one had frost bite. The Brownie said ‘Wasn’t fair to fight the Purple Belly with only one good hand’ but he did offer to shoot it off for him if he fancied a boxing match. The what other people make out of the facts, which they cobble together to make them feel better at night.” He snorted “Heck, you probably have no idea what I’m on about...its all history now, never did see any royalties from that pic...editor ass holes...”

He sighed, leaning back a little further.

“But it was Hera, end of the war...I’d just been booted out of Fort Bastion, that was the Allied HQ’s little sand castle base well behind the front lines, for recording...well its not important. And so I feel a little like that Jesus character, ya know from the ‘Good book’? I’m all high and mighty, the all seeing eye that judges not and all that. So I go walking off into the desert, or scrub land...hell the Hera natives probably call it a lawn for all I know. I was following this tip, some army grunt who was riled up at having his rig snagged by some guys in Spec Op gear. He wasn’t alone, nearly half a armour division had their rigs taken by these stone cold killer dudes...and here I was, following one of these supposed ‘invisible convoys’.”

He laughed again, shaking his head as though still unbelieving in his own story.

“Imagine my shock when I find one of them...and they’re all dead.”


Nakali Xiancho Sjet
In Canada

Re: Family Frustrations.

PostPosted: Tue Jan 12, 2010 9:44 pm
by Quamie
Ameri watched with growing horror. The horror, however, did not seem to be directed at him, but for him. She was too young to have been in the war.

“Imagine my shock when I find one of them...and they’re all dead.”

"What had happened?" she asked, not sure she really wanted to know.

Re: Family Frustrations.

PostPosted: Tue Jan 12, 2010 11:21 pm
by Jake Sjet
“Ya know...I asked the same question, and I try to answer it every U Day that rolls around with a bottle of the best...and cheapest...tequila I can find.” He held up a finger “Which, coincidentally, can only be found on Hera. Trust me I’ve tried to find a substitute elsewhere, and there isn’t one. Crater Blend they call it, whether because it’s farmed in a nuke crater before being distilled, or because it leaves you feeling like one afterwards...”

He smiled slightly...and then it faded away to nothing at all, just a empty void where an emotional rollercoaster had once been. Now it was a face of recollection, the computer like recounting of events that went so much smoother without the messy trauma of snapping mental bones.

“I found it about 20 clicks out beyond the Alliance Safe Zone, war was over, had been for a month or so, and they still called it a safe zone. Convoy was a mixture of soft and hard top vehicles, a few APC’s, this big Prime Hauler they use to carry around the fusion generators for starships in planet side dry docks. Tyres three metres tall, with this tiny cab controlling everything. It had this huge metal container tied down to its transport bed, like one of those mobile offices you see at construction sites but made to survive a nuke going off. LIke a naked bank vault...”

He shrugged.

“What I think got to me first was the remains of this Stomper...big bipedal weapons platform, made this stomping noise where ever it went, Brownies called them Rooks cause they had big crow’s feet. Hard ass pilots of those things, never seemed to lose it in battle, and those Stompers were tough...but there it was, leaning up against a house sized boulder missing a leg and a crater where its cockpit should have been.” He shivered “After that you notice the big things, you see the finer the troopers in full NBC rigs. That's Nuke/Bio/Chem warfare suits, lets the soldiers fight on a worthless battlefield without worrying about contracting rad poisoning or a dose of a hunter killer nano virus that took apart their brain stems.”

“These were hard ass troopers that drop right into hell and walk out again grinning like idiots, and counting the fried scalps of the enemy. They don’t just die...but there they were, fifty of them, all scattered throughout the convoy. Some were straight up gun jobs, 60 cal round right in the kisser...never could tell if they did it to themselves or it was their comrades in arms. I found a few in pairs and trios, vibro knives in hands, or simply hands around throats. They’d taken each other to pieces.” He shivered “I was filming everything, kept thinking I was gonna get the fattest paycheque in history for this...write my own ticket, retire to some beach paradise where the ladies were cold and the beers shapely ya know?”

He paused, and then slowly continued.

“I was getting closer to the Prime Hauler now, you could see the big tyres were pock marked with bullet holes, one of them was even ripped to pieces by a shoulder mounted grazer, that's the main gun on the Stomper that was belching smoke into the noon day air. What that thing did to the Prime Haulers front tyre and cab was nasty...thats why their banned weapons now, WarTech Treaties ya know?” he took a second to centre his attention “There were these dudes in snow white space suits, you know the sort doctors use when you’ve got something new and deadly in your blood? These guys were bunched up around the back of the hauler, by the ‘vaults’ rear hatch. You could tell they’d been running, the way they were piled over one another as they’d been trying to get out of the Vault when the guns opened up on them. Their own guys shooting them...and then killing each other...”

“It was mad...utter insanity. NBC troops shooting science weenies, yeah I can see that. How often had the weenies told a General or Admiral some new fangled gun was going to end the war, and blew up in the hands of the gun runners on the front lines. But you don’t fight and die with your buddies and then turn on them suddenly. These guys were known for throwing themselves in front of the bullet for the guy next to them...that’s way past friend, that's way past family...”

He said something, looking at the wall before repeating it a little louder, a little clearer.

“That's when I heard her...this...voice from the Vault, a voice alone in the darkness.” He said hoarsely “Help...that’s all she could I’m not a man who put faith in God...but for her sake...for her sake...I hope God kept a name of every one of those science types who blocked the door way into that moving vault. A short list for hell.”

TAG-Quamie, anyone who comes passing, bring some popcorn.

Nakali Xiancho Sjet

Re: Family Frustrations.

PostPosted: Wed Jan 13, 2010 2:05 pm
by KendleRJ
A Firefly, no matter how large one might seem on the ground, is truly a small ship. Not too many places to go, and privacy is gotten in fits and starts rather than all at once. So, when people start talkin, or laughin, or makin a fuss, it ain't many on board as couldn't hear it.

It was like that for Tarragon Hunter as a story she saw unfold before her in secrecy and private, she overheard bein told by the very man who had experienced it. It was a mixed feeling she had as she listened, though she couldn't quite hear it all unless she moved just so in the kitchen... and she stood to one side. Infirmary, she figured, and left it be. She felt as though she had tried to steal the very thing that made him as he was after Leviathan. And here he was sharin it without a care or concern. Her silence... that made it quite clear; made it all quite clear to her as she finished up in the kitchen.

Lots of things were gettin a mite clearer the closer they got to where it all ended. Where it all began. She'd best make Chris Rapson's send off one to remember; last farewell for a friend. And sitting in the exact spot where she could hear nothin at all elsewhere, she took pencil to paper and began a list of things they had in their stores so that they might trade for some extras, and might cook the rest. Suggestions from her to Kynthia once the list was complete.

For now, she sat doin. And avoidin. Both quite well indeed.

~Tag anyone in the Kitchen / Lounge

Tarragon Hunter
Chef and Crew
Monarch: Firefly Class

Re: Family Frustrations.

PostPosted: Wed Jan 13, 2010 2:37 pm
by Quamie
"Who was she," Ameri was thoroughly engrossed in the story, and it never occurred to her that it may be fiction or all too strange. She believed every word she heard. "Were they trying to help her, or keep her from escaping?"


Re: Family Frustrations.

PostPosted: Wed Jan 13, 2010 11:24 pm
by Jake Sjet
He wasn’t listening to Ameri now, her questions, her quires, all were forgotten in favour of his retelling. It was a cathartic experience in a way, a releasing of a sudden and building pressure. This was something he had to say, had to relive through just one more time, as though in penance for something...

Something terrible.

“Live through all your deaths...” he whispered hoarsely, before his eyes flicked up to meet hers, coughing into one hand “At first I thought I was hearing things, crazy place like that your mind plays tricks on you easier than you think. Bodies where the wind going around’em sounds just like the laboured sigh of a injured man. The rustling of movement...the hiss of their armour settling in the dust...”

“But I wasn’t...I wish to god I was hearing things, now in retrospect, with hindsight. I clambered over those science weenies, riddled with armour piercing PIE rounds...that’s Pyro Ignition on Enemy, gets in and melts everything. The scent of roasted...well pork, and plastic, that never leaves you no matter how much you try to wash it out. They’d been running from something, something that got out of the Vault...something that just sniffed at the NBC troopers hazard gear and walked right through it.”

He wet his lips tentatively.

“Now I’ve done my ‘hearts and minds’ pieces in hospitals, you always get good crap in a recovery ward. Brave soldiers flexing cybernetic arms where some Brownie had blown it clean off with a laser rifle. Never go to see’em in the admittance section, you know how many ‘Can you record this for Ma and Pa Trooper’ requests I got? To many..and all from the ones with these little black crosses on their foreheads. That's triage, the picking of who is more...efficient to patch up, who won’t suck down limited resources like drugs and that. Medics...killed more people in the war than either side ever could...pious bast-”

He paused a moment, looking at Ameri.

“No offence kiddo...but like I was saying, I’ve been in high end OR’s and field tent trauma centres, so I know what a medical facility looks like. And what was inside that trailer mounted Vault...well if there was a piece of hind tech pretty not stuffed in there, it was on order. Everything was lighting up as I walked in, must have gone into hibernation mode to conserve power or something. Stuff was muttering science speak in all the major dialects: English, Cantonese, even a little highfalutin Canasian from way back home on Sihnon. You spend years learning that crap, never think you’ll use it outside of the Corporate estates and boom...dust ball on the rim, in a trailer of the damned.”

His fingers were tapping against the bed now, a little trilling tinkling noise.

“It was all surrounding this...this sarcophagus like thing, all fluted steel and glittering holographic medical cartouches, a art deco coffin...yeah....yeah a coffin.” He gulped down a breath of air “It was plumbed into the Vault with arm thick cables, pipes and wire, this rime of frost was growing along its sides giving these holograms this faint ghostly look to them. Histograms that looked like Chinese dragons writhing in pain...the lid...was cracked, not cracked...melted, ants or something’s had been packed within and had just driven themselves out through the reinforced glass lid...that’s where the voice came from- was....coming from.”

“When I looked inside...I had to put the camera down, stupid to remember that but right now, I wish I’d had that in front of my face...maybe...well. She was in there, tucked inside in a cocoon of glittering coal like machinery, bits of it sicking into her, pericing her snow white skin with angry red welts. Could have been you, young...tarnished innocent...I can’t remember what she looked like exactly, just the vauge details, the crib notes...but those eyes, eyes that had never seen hope before...eyes to old for a face so young, like yours...”

He held up his hands, turning them over slowly in front of his face.

“I’ll remember them until I die...I see them when I blink, when I sleep...” he laughed half heartedly “I should have thought about why the science weenies were wearing those bio suit things...before I reached in to take her hand, to tell her everything was gonna be fine and I was gonna get her out. I think I said ‘Hey’ softly...but by then I had her hand in mine...and then...”

And then...
And then...

He just starred at the bulk head across from him, but he didn’t see it, couldn’t see it, he was looking into a scared little girls eyes, a little girl from which such viciousness did swell like a well drilled straight into Hells most darkest corner.

“...I should have left her...” he whispered, clenching his hands “I should have ran...I didn’t...I took her hand in mind, gave this little squeeze of the time I felt my finger tips burning, my eyes were on fire and I really couldn’t think all that well. It was like...I dunno, I don’t want to think about don't think about the unvierse imploding right behind your eyes. Thats why they ran...but it got out, got to their escort...why didn't I go mad? Why the hell didn't I just blow my frackin head off!”

He shuddered suddenly, hugging himself.

“I passed out...I dunno, maybe I didn’t...I just remember this medic telling me an Alliance patrol finding me one day after I’d been missing for a week. I was a bag of bones stumbling in the wastes, press ID clenched in one hand, half dead from exposure and dehydration...they said all I could say when they found me was ‘Servo vestri’...over and over again...and again...and again...”

He smiled thinly.

“It was her last words to me, before I took her hand...servo vestri...” he looked at Ameri now, his eyes filled with a terror never to be known by the girl medic is she were lucky “Save yourself.”


Nakali Xiancho Sjet

Re: Family Frustrations.

PostPosted: Thu Jan 14, 2010 10:29 pm
by Quamie
“It was her last words to me, before I took her hand...servo vestri...” he looked at Ameri now, his eyes filled with a terror never to be known by the girl medic is she were lucky “Save yourself.”

"Oh...." it was all she could say, and said in a whisper. But really, what do you say after that? So whatever was wrong with this girl was contagious, and had passed to Nakali. But then.... it should be contagious from him,too.... unless it wasn't a normal illness. "That must have been horrible. Did they find her, too?"


Re: Family Frustrations.

PostPosted: Sat Jan 16, 2010 7:44 pm
by Jake Sjet

The word, the very utterance, was hollow and lacking any sort of human warmth to it that would lend it evidence that it had come from the lips of a living man and not some grill on a computer. He bit his lip slightly, shaking his head, eyes cast down to the floor.

“No.” He said with a little more feeling than nothing at all, shrugging a little “I even got’em to go out into the wastes to find it again, but ya know what? It’s hard to remember directions from one of the worst moments in your life. I could have been leading them hundreds of klicks away from it, or just a hill away from it.”

He laughed a little.

“Ya know they had me convinced I’d just gotten lost...gone looking out for that one last story of the War, the one that people would talk about, and had a break down. It happens a lot more than you’d think in’s the pressure, gets to me. So for a time I just nodded good natured like at all the medics and shrinks they shoved in my way. Hell I was story in and of its self! Not exactly 30 days out in the desert, but let’s face it, news is news.”

“And that’s exactly how I lived for a month or so...just wandered from one free lance job to the next, just trying to get back into the rhythm of peace time news hounding. You’d be shocked to know just how many celebrity teeny boppers have a taste for places of ill repute...oh if my camera could talk after those body guards were done with it.” he fell silent a moment later “Of course it did once...I’d been casing this joint, the ‘Exquisite Corpse’, this tricked out joint in the lower ‘downs of Sihnon’s harbour district. You could hear the rumble of the passenger liners boosting for orbit from where I was sat across the street.”

He grinned.

“This Cortex singer...some teen sensation, I forget her name...think she OD’s a few years ago, maybe, pressure ya know...well she was leaving the Corpse in the arms of this low rung thug, all hands. I’m getting it all on camera, I’ve scattered some low res stills around the place, and the hologram records sucking in the image for all to see. Pure gutter feed, but it’ll keep the lights on over my head so what do I care...apart from the person who leaves the club after her.”

He paused.

“I’ve never believed in Angels...demons sure, seen plenty of those...but Angels? How could I? Why would I, this ex war reporter, believe in a holier than thou smighter from on high? So you can imagine my surprise when I see one right across the street from me, looking right at she knew, SHE KNEW, everything about me. She just looked at me all sad like, wings sword and toga...and me? I was crying my eyes out, those Angel eyes just felt pity for anyone those eyes looked upon with that level of sadness in them. And she was looking right at me...the Angel was disappointed in me.”

His voice caught for a second.

“Only lasted a second...barely a moment...but I know, I’d have done anything just to see a smile, or a lowering in her appraisal of me. The pop singer had vanished when she saw me break down, the thug just evaporated back into the alleyways he called home I guess. And there I was, knees in the gutters, me on my knees mind you...but no Angel. And that’s how it was, for a few weeks I’d just catch something out of the corner of my eye, or feel...judged, a ultimate accounting of my life and all its mistakes. Didn’t matter where I was, or what I was doing...I held it together in the first few times after I knew what was going on...but they got longer.”

He looked at his bare wrist, at the permanent tan lines of where the watch ad rested.

“Every thirteen and a half hours, like clock work...she appears. She, God...the universe just pours into my head and...and it’s all fake. Has to be, my own personal glimpse into heaven and I have to be smart enough to see the God damned wires!” he snarled, suddenly animated as he tossed the bed pan he’d not needed out of the infirmary door way.

Unfortunately for Shamus ‘Shoddy’ McDonald what bed pans lack in aerodynamic lines they make up for in solid mass. The pan struck at the back of his head as he wandered up towards the top of the stairs that led into the cargo bay, his arms filled with parts and mechanical do-hickeys. The hollow thunk of the pans impacted was mirrored only by the soft metallic rain fall of spare parts flying into the air as he fell forward with a muffled, girlish scream.

“Aww...shoot.” Nakali growled, glowering at the stunned Scotsman laying prone across the threshold of the cargo bay.

TAG-Ameri, anyone else who wants in on the action.

Nakali 'Xiancho' Sjet

Re: Family Frustrations.

PostPosted: Sun Jan 17, 2010 8:28 pm
by KendleRJ
Finishing touches on the list; it seemed rather strange that the Kitchen and Lounge were that quiet, even during that time of day. But it was not hers to reason why, just make sure the list was accurate, complete and duplicated. One for her. And the other for Captain Kynthia.

Standing, Tarragon Hunter folder the paper and slipped it inside Ky's personal locker. The other she placed in her own. Food was going to be a priority soon enough, and with landing on Hera as their next stop, they would need to stockpile a little, have something special for the ceremonies there would be...

Last minute wiping up, she heard something crash a little oddly and very loudly from below. "Hey!" Tarra called down. "Everyone all right down there?" After all, it sounded like it was coming from the direction of the Infirmary which seemed, ironically enough, the right place for the sound and the right time. After all, if someone fell, being in the Infirmary would be the best place for 'em.

Not really expecting an answer, she still waited for a bit before heading back the long way around to her bunk. When they landed, there would be plenty of time to take a walk, but she'd already seen everything aboard. A lot.

~Tag Anyone down there that CAN answer or cares to :)

Tarragon Hunter
Chef and Crew Member

Re: Family Frustrations.

PostPosted: Mon Jan 18, 2010 9:54 pm
by Quamie
Ameri jumped as he tossed the bed pan, and cringed when it hit Shoddy in the head. "Oh!"

It took less than a second for her to reach his side, checking him over to make sure he was okay.

"Aww...shoot.” Nakali growled, glowering at the stunned Scotsman laying prone across the threshold of the cargo bay.

"Hey!" Tarra called down. "Everyone all right down there?"

"Shoddy just got hit by a bedpan," Ameri called back up, helping the Scotsman to his feet.


Re: Family Frustrations. ** JP between Sam and Tarra **

PostPosted: Wed Jan 20, 2010 4:28 pm
by KendleRJ
**OOC - JP between Sam Crerar and Tarragon Hunter - Thanks Sam!**

Sam headed into the kitchen after talking with Bug and Ky. "Why wouldn't we be alright?" She asked, looking at Tarra.

"Oh," Tarra said, a little surprised at seeing Sam. "I just heard a kerfuffle from down the stairs and called down to see if I could help is all." Giving her the once over she smiled lopsidedly. "You look to be just fine."

Sam shrugged, "Whatcha been doing?"

Looking around the kitchen, Tarra sorta gestured. "Cookin' and such. Not much else since we got back. I guess just healin' from the bruise, but not much else." She hadn't gone looking for anyone and kept to herself. "And you? What about you?"

"Haven't done much, you feeling alright?"

Sam noticed that, really unsurprising, Tarra wasn't quiet acting right around her. Still tense-ish, not like the shiny fuzzy feeling they'd had before.

Tarragon Hunter smiled. It was the kind of smile that was polite. And covered more than it showed. "Feelin' just fine. Had a rough go after the little trip we took, but keeping busy helps a lot."

Looking squarely into Sam's eyes, Tarra said, "Not done much? Haven't seen too many around the ship. How's everyone else?"

"Bug's a little...funny, but, not surprising. It's a normal thing." Sam said quietly. "Everyone else...I think shiny."

"Real shiny if Shoddy's head stopped ringing from the bedpan incident." Tarra smirked a little, but kept to herself. "Hope it was empty."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Shoddy got hit with a bedpan?" She paused for a second. "We have bedpans?"


Tarragon Hunter
Chef and Crew Member

Re: Family Frustrations. - **JP Between Sam and Tarra**

PostPosted: Wed Jan 20, 2010 4:32 pm
by KendleRJ
**OOC - JP (continued)**

"Apparently," said Tarra. "That's what Ameri said. Sounds like she's got it under control, but not sure if it was a driveby panning or a premeditated incident."

"Well. Alright. I'll make sure to duck passing the infirmary." She said, shrugging slightly. "What's to eat?"

"Food's prepped and on the counter," Tarra said. "Some salad that I managed to harvest with some protein squares resembling some orangey-red sorta cheese." Smiling a little, there was a shadow that passed over her face, but only briefly. "Saving other stuff for Chris Rapson's final send off. And maybe a nice meal after the 10th..."

"Right, Rapson's funeral, yeah, that's a good thing to have food for. Shiny. Death and food go together."

"Well, gives everyone an excuse to say something," said Tarra. "Everything goes down better with food. Ain't a celebration so much as a memorial. And out of respect, we fill our tummies fair to bursting. Honouring and celebratin' our own mortality, and more often 'n not, finding someone to share that meal with."

Nodding, Sam sat down and grabbed a bowl of salad. "Yeah. And the tenth's the same thing."

"Wider spread, o' course," Tarra said. "If you intend on drinking a lot, it's best to do it on a full stomach. At least, that's what they told us at the Academy."

"Everyone's gonna drunk...drink...really."

"That's what I figured," Tarra said. "Reminiscing and such. War buddies and all. Waltzing down memory lane with a bottle in one hand and a bucket in the other, I 'spect." She remembered U day at home. It was a xiancho mess.

"I usually don't need a bucket." She paused, "Listen, I kinda want to talk about what happened..."

"You mean with your family?" Tarra asked matter-of-factly. She had had a lot of time to herself to try and suss things out while not surrounded by people who wanted to sell her pi gu for cashy money to the highest bidder.


Tarragon Hunter
Chef and Crew Member

Re: Family Frustrations. - **JP Between Sam and Tarra**

PostPosted: Wed Jan 20, 2010 4:33 pm
by KendleRJ
**OOC - JP (conclusion)**


"Well," Tarra said. "Talk."

"It's not my fault. Well, no, it is, but, I didn't expect them to ever really find me. And I didn't really want any harm."

Tarra shook her head. "You waited this long to tell me that?" she asked. "That was fairly obvious once we were off the ship." Her eyebrows raised as if to punctuate it. "Because we made it off the ship..."

The smile was still distant, but certainly held no malice.

"I also didn't betray you all...I went to sell my soul to the devil."

"We made it off the ship. And I wouldn't give a rat's ass about what you went to do. You're crew, you're family and you belong aboard The Monarch." Simple math that had been drummed into her head. "Why you want to go and do something like that for? Don't you like it here anymore?"

"Because it would have gotten everyone else off. Safely."

Standing up, Tarra looked herself over. "We're here. No soul selling." Looking at Sam, she saw it must be quite important to her for some reason or other. "Look. I ain't discounting what you did. Just glad you didn't have to do it. Your chit's still good. One soul."

There was a moment of breath. And then an additional moment of speech. "No matter how you might feel right now. It might not be intact, but you ain't given it away."

"I tried though...and..." Sam sighed, "now it ain't good for much."

"According to WHO, Sam Crerar?" Tarra looked at her friend and there were things she felt, they didn't belong anywhere close. Not at the moment. "We're home. And in one piece. Managed to keep ahead of 'em. And thinking in a confined space when fear is all you feel is a hell of a lot different than thinking with a straight head aboard the ship. People'll come around. Or they won't. But either way, we're all in the Black together, and if it means anything at all, I got your back." Something was nagging at her, but she wasn't sure what. "As if having a chef have your back means anything, anyway."

"At least we'll never run out of nibblies."

"There ya go," Tarra said. "Silver lining." She was still standing. "I'm..." it was still a little uncomfortable to be standing almost exposed to anything on board the ship. "I'm going to head back to my bunk. Got some letters to write." Her hand drifted to her gun on her hip, and stroked the hilts of her knives absent-mindedly. "You are welcome to join me, I just... just feel better there, is all."

Sam looked slightly uncomfortable there. Self-conscious more than anything about the whole letters thing. "Nah, I'm gonna possibly go take a nap."

"Well, ok then. I'll see you soon, I'm sure." Tarra was about to take a walk past the Infirmary, but thought better of it. Everything was more than under control, and she went the long way back to the passenger section. She was not avoiding the place. She simply was not. "Dinner's at 18:00," she said as she left the Kitchen.

~Tag Any

**OOC - Thanks, Sam for the JP!**

Tarragon Hunter
Chef and Crew Member

Re: Family Frustrations.

PostPosted: Thu Jan 21, 2010 12:27 pm
by Tavey
The next month or so passed quickly. Things on the ship seemed to settle, but Kynthia wasn’t convinced. She could feel it in her skin. Sam was slightly more brusque than usual. The others were polite but not friendly. Truth was, Kynthia didn’t know what to do to fix whatever it was still being held tightly in their emotions. All she could do was keep the ship going.

Lu retreated again to her cabin, leaving Paul to fly. When any of them saw her, she had haunted eyes, and kept her arms crossed over her belly like a talisman. Something had spooked her, and badly.

Kynthia too retreated somewhat, to the communications coming in over The Cortex about the upcoming celebrations. Making plans on who she was going to see, those that she remembered that is. She caught some hint that there might be trouble, and hoped that none of them would be caught in it.

The ship got some passengers on the last leg of the journey which helped keep most of them busy. Nothing much, just extra folks to talk to, feed and keep out of the sensitive areas of the ship.

Arriving at Hera caused some concern. The world was ringed, like the flatvids of Saturn near Earth-That-Was, by hundreds of Alliance ships. Literally.. as if the army had been mobilised special for this event.

Which, if you thought about it some, made perfect sense really. Ten years is an awful long time to be nursing the anger that Serenity Valley had caused. And three years is long enough to plan, once the truth about Miranda came out.

The Monarch was greeted by an Alliance officer who laid out the reality clearly. They were welcome to land on Hera, but only if the Alliance could send one of their pilots to take the ship down. They would be assigned a berth, and that was where the ship would stay during its time onworld. They would be expected to leave as soon as they were cleared for takeoff, and that would be assigned by berth as well. Seemed that someone had worked out that there might possibly be a few too many ships taking off all at once and that would mess the atmo in addition to the crashes, air rage and such that might be expected.

Kynthia, knowing when to argue and when to give in, did just that. A few hours later, a pimply faced youngling showed up to fly the ship in to land. The youngling brought guards with him. Who deterred any and all conversation with the kid. Kynthia could only look at Paul across the space and shrug. She refused to leave the bridge when requested, on grounds that she had the codes for The Monarch and was the Captain.

The Ship settled with barely a bounce on a hard packed field. She was placed next to some yellow thing, all nose and engine and precious little else. Kynthia nodded with a touch of surprise at the expertise of the young man. “Any time you want a job.” she muttered to him as he stood up to leave. One of the goons he’d brought with him intercepted her smoothly. His arm held out between them.

“Time to be leaving sir. You don’t need to talk to none of these here fine folk of the celebrating types.” he said in a gruff voice that would cheerfully take chalk off a blackboard and dance upon it’s dusty remains. Kynthia pulled a face at their departing backs.

“Well. We’re here until the purplebellied ones say we ain’t allowed to be no more. Ain’t that the peachy thing.” she sighed. “Looks like we’ll have to be having a good time for the next three days until the main event.”

Three days.

For her folk, that was an awful long time on their hands. Plenty of which to be getting into trouble. And more than enough for one task they needed to be taking care of.

It was time to be saying goodbye to Chris Rapson.


Next episode “Requiem for the Forgotten Browncoat”